#but then i suppose that's the difference between vampires and werewolves | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunmoonjune · 2 years

Text

storm clouds at midnight

pairing: poly!ot8 stray kids x fem!reader [werewolf! au]

warnings: minors dni!! extremely suggestive themes!! there is no explicit smut, cursing, but it’s probably the closest to smut I’ve written, predator/prey, chasing, suggestive content is 100% consensual by all parties, vampires are assholes, fear, blood, biting, minor mentions of reader not liking their body (no reference to size/shape), the boys are dirty-minded, a lot of teasing, dirty talk, a little choking, sub!reader, seriously this is probably mostly definitely smut so minors dniI!! there are member x member relationships in this

word count: 26.3k (ok I know I’m insane)

a/n: ok,,, listen I was supposed to write like four other things and not this... but maxident came out and I've been in my skz feels sooo this is the result. also yes! this is in the same universe as dewdrops at dawn (two different places with two different views of the supernatural) also,,, I am physically incapable of writing non-soulmate au’s it seems

again, this work is considered as suggestive, please do not interact if you are a minor.

You knew the wolves were there from the moment you moved in.

Even despite the little power you possessed, you could recognize the enchanting magical aura that lingered in the depths of the dark forest. Without a doubt in your mind, you knew that werewolves resided in the trees beyond your home. In the small clearing at the edge of the woodside town, you could feel the surge of power that marked the boundary of their territory. Despite lacking the keen senses of their kind, you can still feel the border flicker with their strength when you toe the line.

The night after you first moved into the little cabin on the borders of town, your entire being could sense the moment the wolves descended on your new home.

Eight forms hid in the darkness of the trees – keeping their bodies shadowed under the cover of night. You could feel their aura and their magic as they investigated your presence. They were scanning for trouble - that you could tell. As a witch, moving into the borders of their territory was bound to draw suspicion.

Though you lacked immense quantities of magic, you still had the thrum in your veins and the swell in your chest that indicated your link to the supernatural. A witch was a witch, through and through - no matter how much magic they possessed. Despite the disdain of your spellbinding kin, the comfort of the sentiment allowed you to continue practicing using little magic you possessed.

It’s long after midnight when you feel the auras descend upon your clearing. Eight werewolves, their strength and power undeniable as they linger on their own border. You can almost feel their eyes flickering over your body as they scan your small home. Their sharp pupils leave no belonging untouched. Each of your possessions is investigated for magical inclination. Despite the foreboding indication of their pack’s fortitude, there was some lingering sense of excitement when you felt their eyes on your form.

You could not blame their caution. When another supernatural being moves into the borders of their territory, it was more than justifiable to investigate their prowess. However, it was not their discretion that caught your attention.

Something fizzled in the air between you and the wolves, simmering as if connecting your emotions to the pack. It sets your body alight - every inch of your skin flickering with heat and your nerves humming with a warmth you could not place. In some way you did not yet understand, you were connected to this wolfish pack.

Setting aside some fauna and other potion ingredients to be stored, you felt goosebumps prick under your skin when their gaze turned to your form. It was not an unpleasant feeling; rather one of unbridled curiosity. The notion of their eyes on your skin made you tremble with waves of both excitement and nervousness. They collided with each other in a storm of untapped emotion, and you vaguely wondered why the wolves’ presence made you react so strongly.

When you carefully made your way out your back door, your slow steps were indicated by the crackle of leaves beneath your feet and the magical thrum in the air. You could feel the wolves’ apprehension in the way their own aura fidgeted, but you continued into your garden nevertheless. Under their direct gazes, something in your body hummed with delight. It was a little strange, and a more sensible part of yourself questioned the feeling. However, the magical pull overpowered that observation, and you found yourself peering into the woods - hoping to catch a glimpse of the wolves that caught your attention.

They kept themselves well hidden. Your human eyes could not see as well as them in the dark, and you were left without a grasp of their forms. A lingering sensation of disappointment settled in your stomach, your lower lip pulling into your teeth in a pout at the feeling.

The notion did not bother you as you understood their apprehension towards you, even despite whatever lingered in the air between you. With your limited ability, you pulled gently on the magical connection with your power. It simmered pleasantly between you, like a string that could not be severed. Pulled tight by the grasp of your magic, you felt your body shiver when one of the wolves responded with a deep growl.

It was not a threatening sound - not necessarily. The sound rippled through the atmosphere with an air of warning. The leader of the pack was not comfortable with you messing around with magic upon your first meeting. The sensation rippled through your body and you felt your chest shake with his power.

Holding your hands up with your palms out, you hummed quietly with apology. You had no intention of angering the wolves, simply wanting to understand the sensation that seemed to pull you closer. The sound seems to soothe the tension, hackles slowly lowering and magic softening in the air around you.

From beneath the depths of the dark, wooden thicket, the pack leader stood strongly in front of his seven pack members. Chan had led his partners to the borders of their territory upon feeling the magical thrum of a witch in the air. He could sense the change in the atmosphere when you had arrived in their little town. Even without the bond that simmered between you and the eight wolves, Chan was exceptionally adept at deciphering the magical aura of supernatural creatures - a skill that came with being the Alpha of his pack.

The shining silver of his wolfish coat was difficult to keep hidden under the moonlight, but Chan was careful. From behind the trees, he and his partners could easily investigate the homely wooden cottage the new witch had sequestered.

His chest hummed with a pleasant feeling, one he knew connected him to the same witch they had come to examine. Though difficult, he buried it deep in his chest. There would be time to explore the connection later.

“Careful, Jinnie,” his voice echoed through the link connecting each of the wolves. He addressed the dark form of Hyunjin, who had broken the line of his partners behind him. Though he kept low to the ground, Hyunjin had crept forward, seemingly very interested in the witch whose magic thrummed in the air around them.

The dark fur of Hyunjin rippled under the alabaster shine of the moon, illuminating the pure muscle of his form. Hyunjin was one of the largest of their pack; his ebony coat standing tall over the bodies of his partners. He huffed at his leader’s call, seeming to shiver as another pulse echoed down the new connection between the wolves and you.

Sending Chan a remarkably longing look for a wolf, Hyunjin backed away from the edge of the forest. He settles beside Felix, the younger shifting to rest his weight against his lover. The lighter brown color of Felix stood out against Hyunjin, and the darker wolf dropped his head to brush his nose against Felix’s muzzle. Inhaling a wave of his partner’s scent, Hyunjin relaxed some of his tensed muscles. Feeling some of the enticing turmoil seep from his form, Hyunjin let some of his own weight settle against Felix, knowing the younger savors any affection his lovers adore to provide.

“She smells s’good, Hyung,” Jeongin, the youngest of the pack, rumbles. He stands at the rear beside Seungmin, both wolves a dark walnut color. Though they’re close, the elder of the two werewolves is less inclined to treasure affection. Seungmin leans away from the typical touch that his mates seem to adore. However, Chan and the others have known the wolf far too long to know that Seungmin only pretends to hate physical affection. He may whine when Chan wraps his body around him, but the eldest can feel the way Seungmin sinks into his form and how the bond between them warms.

Chan’s only response to Jeongin is another hum.

The silver wolf is too busy scanning your body, from where you have stepped out of your house to approach the tree line. Chan can tell that you know he and his partners are there. The bond wavers between you and Chan has to resist the pleasant shiver that thrums through him. Some of the others are unable to fight back the feeling, and Chan can feel Felix and Han’s excitement spike from their connection.

The eight wolves stand at the ready. With your form slowly approaching the woods, another thrum of excitement echoes down both ends of the bond and this time it’s Minho that has to resist stepping forward. Whatever connection lingers between you is strong. The combination of your sweet scent and the magical connection is beginning to drive Minho mad. He swears he can almost feel the touch of your skin on his own despite the distance that separates you.

As second-in-command, Minho stands at Chan’s side. The two are tense, but not out of apprehension – it seems all eight of the wolves are feeling the same thrum from your bond.

At the edge of your yard, you slow to a stop. In the chilly night air, you rub your hands together for a little warmth, but find that whatever magic simmers in the air has kept you quite hot. Shifting on your feet, you attempt to find the eyes of any of the wolves that you can sense in front of you.

You keep at least twenty yards between you and the wolves. Despite whatever connection you may have, you do not know how they will react if you approach closer. They are cautious of your magic - you can tell. Most supernatural creatures are. Though the notion saddens you, you can understand the apprehension; witches are typically solitary beings who don’t mix well with other supernatural creatures.

Unable to find the irises of one of the wolves, you sigh and shift your own pupils to the floor beneath your feet. You mull over a few options in your head, attempting to find a solution. You want to show the wolves that you don’t mean any harm - that you’re more than willing to explore this newfound bond that seems to simmer in the air like it’s own magic.

When an idea strikes you, you’re almost embarrassed to consider it. Heat rises to your skin and you feel a pulse of something hum in the air.

Shifting on your feet, you lower your body a fraction in an attempt to appear smaller. Inclining your head, you tilt your chin to expose the skin of your bare neck: a show of submission. It’s awkward, but if you want to appeal to the wolves, you may as well act like one, you suppose.

You feel a little odd as you stand, but after a solitary moment, the pleasant growl in response makes your knees weak. The sound seems to combine with a wave of heat and excitement that rolls through your body. Without even seeing the wolves with your own eyes, they seem to have a grip on both your mind and body that you cannot fathom.

From behind the trees, Chan has taken a step forward. At your show of submission, the pack leader cannot help the shiver of pride that echoes through him. Heat fills his form at the act, and the growl escapes his chest before he can stop it. He longs to break from the tree line. Every fiber in his being wants to step out and feel the skin of your form beneath his fingers. With your neck inclined towards him, proudly showing him the skin of your jugular, Chan’s fangs seem to press tight against his gums. They ache to sink into your skin – to mark you as his own, just as he has marked his partners, who stand at his side. It’s a little strange, as this is your first meeting, but Chan supposes the mating bond has something to do with it. He did, after all, mark Minho after their first meeting.

Despite the heat that simmers under his skin, Minho can’t resist the chuckle that bursts forth at his Alpha’s reaction. Your show has affected their leader the most, as he is the head of the pack. Though he still feels the same pride and longing that fills Chan’s chest, it’s of a lesser degree and Minho can control the arousal that heats in his chest.

“Careful, Chan-hyung,” Hyunjin playfully teases, throwing his leader’s previous words back at him. The intense aura of Chan’s emotions thrum in the bond between the pack, enticing all eight of the wolves to their Alpha’s dominance.

Turning to his partner, Chan snaps his jaws teasingly at the younger. Though the action is violent, Chan is careful not to harm any of his lovers with his sharp teeth - even when his dominance is questioned.

“Shut it, Hyunjin. Or s’you I’ll sink my teeth into.”

At his side, Minho and Changbin huff in silent laughter, enjoying the commotion at Hyunjin and their leader’s expense. Hyunjin is not affected by Chan’s threat, seeming to purr at the response. He steps forward with his head held high and sets his sights on his eldest lover.

“Promise?” Hyunjin’s coo answers.

He sends a flirtatious bolt of arousal down the bond he shares with Chan, feeling his entire body shiver pleasantly when his pack leader responds with a salacious look and a short, tempered growl. Chan’s response insights a promise - one he’s sure to fulfill when they return home.

The other pack members huff good-naturedly, feeling the sweet effects of their partner’s banter warm their own chests. Minho enjoys watching Chan struggle with the emotions that simmer under his skin. Of course, it’s not in an antagonizing manner. Minho simply finds delight in challenging his pack leader's dominance – not in terms of pack order, but in more indecent manners. It’s always a battle between the two eldest wolves, and it’s usually difficult to determine who’s on the winning side. They both enjoy the thrill that comes with the frisky bickering.

Changbin is the one to shift their attention. His eyes have not left your body, his senses trained pointedly on you. He’s laser-focused, analyzing each curve of your form and delighting in the way his wolf shivers at your scent. Darkened irises track your movement, inhaling a deep wave of your warm scent and enjoying the way his muscles relax when it wraps around his senses.

“What do we do, Hyung?” his voice fills their heads. Shifting on his paws, Changbin itches to lunge into the clearing and claim you for his own. He promises he’ll share you, eventually – his other mates can wait their turn.

Jisung trots up to Hyunjin’s flank, occupying the space on the opposite side of Felix. There’s a little tension between them – some sort of never ending love-rivalry making the two boys constant competitors. The younger chestnut colored wolf nudges Hyunjin with his shoulder. Hyunjin responds with a playful snap, already understanding what his younger partner is thinking. Jisung enjoys a chase as much as he enjoys competition, and Hyunjin knows he’s ready for both.

Chan turns his focus back to your body. You’ve raised your head from its position, unsure of the wolves’ reaction. There’s a furrow in your brow and your lower lip is pulled into your teeth. You look apprehensive, as if their reaction is unclear.

Standing tall and holding his head high, Chan lets his muscles relax from their tensed position. The heat still burns beneath his skin and a longing ache settles into his chest, but Chan knows it’s too early to pursue you as he and the others wish. You’re not wolfish as they are.

If he and the others step out of the thicket of the trees, Chan fears they’ll scare you off. The courting customs of wolves are much different from humans - even if they are supernatural creatures of their own. If Chan is right - as he usually is - you may have an inkling of the bond, and that thought is enough to comfort him for now.

For the meantime, Chan can only savor the waves of your scent as they reach him and his partners. It will be difficult to pull the others away, but Chan knows he can turn them towards each other to cope with the new yearning feeling that has settled in their chests.

As he watches your hands drop to your sides with a wary look, a throb pangs in his chest. Heart surging beneath his ribs, Chan aches to make you smile once again. The apprehension on your face makes you look sad, and the expression makes him ache.

Stepping forward with determination, Chan’s silver coat shines under the moonlight as he takes a single step towards the tree line. Felix yips once, a sound of mild concern for his eldest partner. Chan comforts his younger with a bolt of warmth down their bond, rumbling a purr to sate the sandy colored wolf.

From across the yard, the gnawing feeling of trepidation sinks into your stomach. Despite the single sound from the pack leader and the wave of heat, you receive no other response from the wolves. The silence settles into the air and you begin to wonder if you’ve made a mistake. Your stomach twists as the moments of unsettling quiet sink into your mind.

Then, you feel waves of warmth sink into you. A comforting blanket of affection sinks into your chest and your muscles melt into mush under the weight of the feeling. Your chest fills with delight and you nearly hum with the warmth heating you from the inside. The magic thrums in the air again, and you can tell the feeling was sent from the wolves. The sentiment strikes you with reassurance.

In the darkness of the trees, you raise your eyes to the thicket of branches and greenery that bar your sight of the pack. Their magical aura still hums strongly, and you know all eight of the wolves still sit just behind the fauna, watching you. With the comfort from the pack leader, you raise your eyes to the dense woodland. Feeling sweet affection buzz under your skin, your irises scan the trees and feel a bolt of surprise strike you.

Behind the towering, coniferous trees, you catch a flash of silver.

Shifting your gaze, you raise your sight to follow the shining color. Excitement fills your chest, settling atop the warm affection the wolves have given you. Then, from the darkness you catch a single, fleeting flash of onyx.

Chan steps forward just enough. The alabaster moonlight illuminates just enough of his eyes and silver fur for you to set your sights on the barest glimpse of his darkened irises – his own act of reassurance.

Your breath seems to leave your chest at the sight. You can’t see more than a single iris and the tiniest peek of glimmering fur, but it’s more than enough to leave you speechless. The glimpse, though short, is a message of the pack leader’s own. As he steps back into the trees, letting the darkness submerge his form once more, you understand.

The pack leader has accepted you.

You may not understand the waves of heat that suddenly fill your being, but their presence is a comfort you did not know you craved. Something in the air between you and the eight wolves hums violently and you find yourself reveling in its warmth. The longing surges with excitement, and you know the pack leader has incited a new challenge. You know enough about wolves and their customs to understand what will follow.

It lingers in the atmosphere between you and the wolves and you nearly shiver with the thrill of this new adventure.

The chase is on.

Hyunjin and Jisung are the first.

Three days after your first meeting, with the excited heat still warm in your chest, you venture into the wolves’ territory. Potions set aside for the evening, orders packed and cafe closed, you finally give into the yearning that has thrummed under your skin since that night. You could only take so much of the heat before you knew you would succumb to it.

You don’t venture far into the woodlands, just a few hundred yards of dense trees lie between you and your little cottage. The air smells of coniferous pines and towering oaks. The chilly air settles into your lungs and you savor the clean scent. It feels freeing to explore the forest in the dark. All traces of apprehension and fear are wiped away with the presence of the wolves. This is their territory; you know you are safe as long as you remain inside their borders.

Treading gracefully through the roots of trees and fallen pine cones, your thoughts are swept away by the rising excitement that begins to surge in your mind. You know the consequences that will follow your actions.

You step into wolf territory, you are bound to be pursued.

The thought is not frightening, but rather tantalizing. You are more than delighted to discover which of the eight wolves will come after you. With the enchanting bond that has settled between you and the pack, you know they would not hurt you for entering their territory. In fact, you know the consequences for your intrusion would be more enticing.

The thought makes you shiver in delight.

You understand that the wolves have marked you. There is no physical stain, but you know they have imprinted something to claim you for themselves. The bond is reciprocated, and you welcome the thought of the connection between you and the wolves. The thought of developing the relationship between you is exciting, and you want to see where it takes you.

They wouldn't pursue you outside their own territory, you have learned. In the three days after your first meeting, they would never venture beyond their own borders. Every night, at least two wolves would settle at the tree line - waiting for something you did not understand. Sometimes they paced, impatient in their silence. On other nights, they stood solitary and quiet, keeping their eyes trained to your cottage as they waited for something – something you did not yet understand.

On the third day, you finally deciphered their motive.

The werewolves were not able to follow you outside their borders. Beyond the bounds of their territory, they were unable to shift into their wolfish forms, tied to the laws of the supernatural town in which you resided. Though it was occupied by more mythical beings than ordinary humans, there were still regulations in place to obscure the reality of supernatural creatures. They could not shift in front of humans. Outside their lands, they could not pursue you as they wanted, restricted by the laws of the land. In addition, despite the challenge incited by their pack leader, the wolves were courteous. They would wait for your acceptance before they started the chase.

So instead, they waited for you.

When you ventured into the bounds of their land, you finally welcomed the unspoken challenge: they could have you if they could catch you.

The chase incited a thrill, and you were excited to finally begin this new adventure. Aroused tension settled in your chest, and you buzzed with elation. Heat simmered between your thighs as you thought of what would occur should they catch you. Feeling your skin warm with embarrassed excitement, you shivered as you thought of the possibilities.

You felt a little odd when you thought too hard about the situation, but something about the magical bond between you and the pack and the delight of a new adventure made you want to give into the primal urges. With the promise of something new, you felt an unexplained urge to pursue this new relationship as the wolves would. You wanted to explore their mating customs as much as your own, and the new discoveries made you buzz with heat.

As you settled into a small clearing a few hundred yards from the one you resided, you slowed to a stop and scanned your surroundings. Magic thrummed in the air, and you knew the wolves were well aware of your presence. Regardless of the distance between you, you could feel traces of their emotions as if they were your own.

It’s only a few moments later you feel the magical aura of two wolves.

Hyunjin and Jisung were on border patrol that evening.

They had been scouting the bounds of their territory as usual. Keeping an eye out for any changes and any new threats to enter their land, they walked with purpose and strength. Jisung, though still vigilant, was messing around as usual. The younger was inclined to teasing and playing around with his partners to reduce tension and fill the silence.

When they’d first met, Hyunjin and Jisung had not been on good terms, and the younger’s playful nature had irritated Hyunjin. However, years of courting later, it was now one of the aspects Hyunjin treasured most. Though he fed into the playful rivalry, often butting heads with his younger partner, it was all in good fun.

Jisung bumps purposefully into Hyunjin again, laughing with a yip when Hyunjin attempts to sink his teeth into the chestnut wolf’s neck in retaliation. It was difficult to not give into primal instincts when they messed around in wolf form. The urge to establish his dominance was strong, and Hyunjin almost nearly gave into temptation. He wanted to sink his teeth into his lover’s muzzle and stand over him with his strength and dominance surging beneath his skin.

However, they were on duty. There were more important matters to attend to than sating their desires.

“Hannie” Hyunjin playfully warned, the domineering sound echoing through the bond.

The sound only made Jisung more excited. It always started the same. Jisung would tease Hyunjin until he snapped, and the two would give into the grasp of a carnal rivalry to sort their differences.

Jisung hummed through their connection. He was still vigilant, keeping his senses turned to their borders as he should, but the excitement of his partner still pushed against the forefront of his mind.

“What are you going to do, Hyung?” Jisung playfully taunted, stepping away from Hyunjin as his teeth attempted to close in on his scruff. “Aha! You missed!”

It’s almost comical to watch Hyunjin’s wolf form roll his eyes.

Continuing their patrol with Jisung’s taunts, a subtle whiff of scent stops Hyunjin in his tracks. The smell filters through his senses and the darker wolf is frozen still with his heart stuttering.

“Hyunjin?”

Jisung stops aside his lover, not understanding his sudden halt. He drops his nose to the dirt, smelling for whatever has startled his partner. Suddenly a little apprehensive, Jisung drops the teasing mood to shift into a ready stance. He inhales a wave of pine trees and traces of woodland creatures, filtering through the scents to find whatever has halted his lover.

Then, Jisung finds it.

Your scent filters into his senses and Jisung feels his body tense. Muscles tightening with preparation, the chestnut wolf understands Hyunjin’s halt. The excitement slowly filters into his mind, filling the bond between him and Hyunjin,

You’ve accepted the challenge.

They’re now free to pursue you as they wish.

Hyunjin feels his stomach swell with a wave of salacious thrill. Your scent filters through his head and Hyunjin swears he’s never smelled anything more tantalizing. It’s as if you were teasing him with whiffs of your scent, enticing him and his partners to the chase. Hyunjin feels his body shake with the thought and his knees are weak with that weight of the bond.

“Hannie,” Hyunjin murmurs, voice dripping with purring lust. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He turns his head to face his lover, both their irises darkened with excitement. Bodies filled with the thrill that comes with a chase, Hyunjin feels a smirk pull at his lips. Jisung returns a similar look, sending a bolt of salacious heat down their own bond to make Hyunjin melt. Enjoying that look on his partner’s face, Jisung returns the sentiment.

“First to catch her wins,” Jisung coos, feeling heat envelop him. “Last has to watch.”

Hyunjin takes off first.

Dirt kicks up from his feet, his muscles pumping as he follows your scent through the woods. Jisung is hot at his heels, an excited growl pushing from his chest as the thrill of the chase fills his mind. Giving into the desire that surges in the more primal part of his brain, Jisung feels the urge to howl to the darkened sky with excitement.

Hyunjin feels his heart pump, hammering in his chest as his senses hone onto your scent. The delight seeps into the bond, and he wonders if you can feel their primal hunger from your position ahead. With his mind solely focused on pursuing you, Hyunjin’s consciousness filters through the thoughts of what he wants to do with you once he catches you. He feels the need push harder against his chest and his stomach turns with a heat.

“Keep those thoughts to yourself, Jinnie,” Jisung warns with an informal tone, playfully mocking his elder. Hyunjin’s indecent thoughts subconsciously drift from his mind to his partner’s, his arousal warping his control of their connection. “After all, you’ll be the one watching when I fuck her.”

Jisung’s words taunt Hyunjin, and the elder manages a gruff sound as he kicks up his pace.

“As if!”

Hyunjin’s head knocks back as he sprints through the thicket of trees, a primal howl leaving his lips as he pursues your scent. The sound is chilling, echoing through the forest and alerting the rest of his pack of the start of a pursuit. He feels the lingering excitement of the rest of his pack at the edges of his mind – their curiosity spiking as they sense the chase that has begun. However, Hyunjin doesn’t have the focus to think of their reactions, mind solely concentrated on being the first to reach you.

Jisung is on his heels - literally. The younger attempts to cut his elder off at the ankles, playfully trying to take Hyunjin out of the race. The promise of being the first to sink his teeth into you is a notion that skews his mind and entices him to play dirty, Hyunjin dodges his attempt and a feral sound escapes Jisung’s lungs.

Far ahead, your quiet night is startled at the sound of a wolfish howl breaking the silence. The alluring sound sends shivers down your spine as you feel several emotions strike you through the magical bond between you and the pack. Waves of heat filter through you and the thrill sinks into you with your stomach turning with a salacious thought. They’ve locked in on your scent.

The howl was a warning – the chase has started.

You don’t know which wolves have been the first to feel your presence, but you can isolate their feelings in the connection from the others. The heat is easy to separate from the other six wolves, and you find yourself attempting to send a bolt of heat down the connection to entice them.

‘Come and get me.’

It must work, as another chilling howl breaks through the air.

Shifting on your feet, you move quickly. They may be far away now, but the wolves move far faster than you. You know they’ll be on you in no time.

Turning back the way you came, you take off on the balls of your feet. With your heart hammering with both the race and the excitement of the chase, you push yourself as fast as you can. Feeling the chilly night air fill your lungs with a startling cold, you break into a smile. Laughing freely, you leap over a broken tree branch as the heat in your chest swells.

It’s only been a few moments, but you can nearly hear the thundering sound of their footsteps hitting the earth. They’re closer than before, catching up quickly as the prospect of your teasing nature entices them to run faster. There’s two of them, growling with a fierce but not scary sound as they follow your path with hearts racing and magical heat filling the air.

Just a few yards behind now, you push yourself as fast as you can go. While the thought of being caught is exciting and you long for the indecent result of their capture, you know the chase will be much more fun in the long run. The thought keeps you running, feet slapping against the ground as you huff pants of air in an attempt to keep yourself running.

You can hear them behind you. Wolfish pants leave their chests and the sound of one of their growls sends a bolt of heat between your thighs. The same wolf sends a lustful beat of heat through your bond, a deeper warmth making your knees weak at the lascivious feeling. It’s a dirty trick - one that almost works.

But you’re so close.

Just a few more meters and you’ll break through the tree line, into your clearing: your safe zone. You know the heat between your thighs will be a bother to deal with later, but the thought of what will happen in the long run is too promising an idea.

You allow yourself a glance over your shoulder. Just a glimpse is all you want.

At the sight of a dark onyx colored wolf on your heels, a chestnut one on his own, has your heart stuttering with a bolt of thrill. A smile stretching across your lips at the darkened look in their eyes and heat in your bond, you turn back to your front and keep pushing through the trees.

Hyunjin feels his heart stutter as he realizes how close you are to their borders. Just a few more yards and he’ll lose his chance. The thought makes him growl fiercely. With a fleeting thought, Hyunjin realizes you’ve planned this. You have made sure to only venture so far into the woods, ensuring that you'll be able to escape their grasp just barely. In his frustration, Hyunjin feels his chest swell with desire.

You’re smart.

Sending his thoughts to his partner, Jisung hisses out a curse as you begin to slip from their grasp. Pushing himself faster, Jisung refuses to let you win. His lungs scream with each breath, but Jisung knows the prize will be oh so sweet. The thought of pressing his skin into yours and sinking his teeth into your throat in a mating bite has his mind going fuzzy.

With his mind lost in thought, Jisung misses the moment you cross the borders of their territory.

With a final pant, you dive across the line. Exhaling harshly and pushing a few feet into the clearing to give yourself space, you lean over and rest your hands on your knees as you breathe. Lungs screaming for air, you pant with a wide smile and heat between your thighs.

Outside the borders of their land, you have won the first challenge.

You pant harshly and attempt to keep yourself from squirming under the carnal gazes of the two werewolves. The heat still sizzles fiercely under your skin and you have to resist rubbing your thighs together to cope with the ache.

Hyunjin feels a shiver shake down his spine at your motion. His tongue swipes across his teeth and he swears he can taste your lustful scent in his mouth. Dark pupils nearly roll back into his skull and Jisung simpers at his side, pacing in his anger.

“Ahh,” you sigh, voice weary from the run. “You two are quick.”

Turning back to the trees, you spot the tense forms of the two wolves. They’re pacing, feet as close to their border as they can possibly get. Muscle ripples beneath fur and you know the darker wolf is holding himself back from transforming. The notion excites you, knowing he could turn back to his human form at any moment. Shivering with delight, you smirk at him.

“But not quick enough.”

Hyunjin snarls. His chest hammers and he can feel the disappointment seep into his head. The heat is still there, roaring under his skin and setting every nerve in his body alight. Jisung paces at his side, the same fire rippling under his own skin. The two wolves fight the urge to transform, longing and aching to continue their pursuit. Desire roars in their forms, keeping them pacing along the line of their territory in an effort to expel some of the heat. There's only so much they can do to keep them from ripping from their wolfish forms and crossing the border.

“Hyung,” Jisung’s voice is dark and laden with a salacious weight, “Chan said-”

“To hell with what Chan said!”

Jisung’s pacing seems to grow more fierce. Whipping his head back to his partner, Jisung feels his chest pull tight with both the weight of his arousal and the constraint of Alpha’s orders.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung sternly murmurs. Despite the heat burning every nerve under his fur and your scent ensnaring his senses, the chestnut wolf manages to keep himself in control. He knows Hyunjin doesn’t mean the words that spill forth in his carnal rage. Too motivated by primal urges and the thrill of the hunt, Hyunjin lets his wolf speak for him.

“Little fucking tease,” Hyunjin growls, feeling his wolf shake with the emotion.

Jisung growls another feral sound, and you smirk. The heat echoes through your bond and you feel excitement swell once more. Now that you’ve had a taste, you know you’ll never be able to give this up. This chase is the most thrill you’ve ever had - you’ll never be able to escape the heat from these werewolves.

And you don’t think you want to.

“Maybe next time, Boys,” you playfully murmur. “Let the others know I said ‘Hello.’”

Then you turn on your heel and disappear back into your little cottage, letting the heavy wooden door fall shut behind you with a final sound.

With his heart hammering beneath his ribs, Hyunjin snarls with finality. Unable to accept his loss, the dark wolf whips around to face the chestnut fur of his mate. Jisung slows his pacing to face Hyunjin, head tilted to listen to what he has to say.

In a wildly nimble move, Hyunjin turns quickly and sinks his teeth into Jisung’s chestnut scruff – a dominance bite.

Jisung stills under his mate’s teeth, going limp in his grasp. He whimpers quietly, his lust warping as Hyunjin growls into his skin. The burning fire in his chest transforms from dominance to submission in one quick moment. Hyunjin has Jisung under his body, his body rippling as he stands over his partner with desire sizzling through their bond. Jisung is sure you can feel it - just as he knows his other six mates can.

“Hannie,” Hyunjin purrs, voice echoing in the younger’s mind, “If I can’t have her tonight – then m’gonna have you.”

Your next encounter with the wolves is a few days later.

After the first chase, you were unable to shake off the exciting feeling for hours. The adrenaline and surge of sweeping heat kept you in its grip the entire evening. In fact, you were quite certain the two wolves were using the magical bond to tease you long after you had separated. The bond continues to thrum and seize with waves of emotion that keep you awake, swimming in the depths of their pleasure.

Heat addled your body, leaving you sweating in your sheets and panting in the darkened hours of the evening. Though uncomfortable, you could not seem to hate the feeling. The goosebumps that scattered your skin beneath the heat were not unpleasant - merely sensitive, as was any touch against your warming skin.

After a few hours, you deciphered that the werewolves were toying with you. They kept you awake with the same rush of emotion you had incited in their bodies earlier that evening. Sitting upright in bed, you huffed a sigh as you came to the conclusion.

Shortly after, you came to another decision.

You were going to start playing dirty.

So, a few days later, when you had another chance to venture into the woods, you were well prepared to ensnare the wolves as they had you. In a loose dress that fell below your knees, you could barely resist the surge of pride in your chest as you maneuvered through the forest with a hum.

The idea had struck you not long after you finally fell into the clutches of sleep that night. You knew it was a crazy idea, one more filthy than anything you had ever concocted before. While you were nervous, the waves of apprehension still rolling in your stomach, you were also very excited to see their reactions.

As you found your way into the same clearing you had discovered a few nights ago, you shivered once in the night air with the dregs of worry seeping away from you. This was a crazy idea – one you would only be able to invent in your wildest dreams. You never imagined you would ever do something such as this, but it seems meeting the werewolves was a discovery that would help you explore new facets of life as well as within yourself. Perhaps your meeting was not so accidental.

Shivering once more, this time with bursts of excitement, you shimmied your legs and maneuvered out of the simple pair of cotton panties you had donned that evening. Heat rose into your face at the action, your ears burning as you finally pulled them off your legs. You felt a little obscene but you found that you were not averse to the new feeling.

When the dark material of the black cloth reached your eyes, you felt a burst of bubbling feeling in your chest. Beneath your ribs, both an anxious and an excited feeling slammed together in a stormy collision. You could barely keep yourself still as the adrenaline began to sink into your being.

Stepping towards a raised stump on the forest floor, you felt the edges of a smirk pull on your lips. The darkened bark covering the stump was barely visible in the moonlight, but you found you did not have much trouble maneuvering in the lack of light. Placing the cloth onto the stump, where you were sure it would not be obstructed, you stepped away with an assured sigh.

Content with your plan, you laid in wait for whichever wolves would be your predators tonight.

The werewolves in question were not far from your little seclusion. Minho, the pack’s second-in-command, leads the two youngest through the trees. Thickets of green coniferous branches surround the three werewolves, each section of the woodland looking not so different from the next. Minho and the others, however, were well aware of their position. They knew this forest like the back of their hands – likely able to maneuver through the thicket without the aid of their eyes. Minho swears he could follow the entirety of the borders of their territory by scent alone.

Jeongin and Seungmin follow behind Minho, the two youngest speaking quietly to each other as they scout for their patrol. Minho is quiet, allowing his partners the hushed conversation - finding he greatly enjoyed listening to their voices fill the silence of the night. As he led the way, he kept his attention split between the pleasant sounds of his younger mates and the sounds of the forest around them.

Jeongin’s lighter walnut-colored coat pressed into Seungmin’s darker fur as they walked, leaning into him for a moment before stepping away. Both of the younger’s were considered less physically affectionate than some of their older partners. However, that did not mean they were ever far apart for long.

They spoke quietly about Hyunjin and Jisung. The two wolves had returned from patrol long after they should have; fur ruffled and smelling of sweat and indecent substances, Hyunjin had smirked at his other lovers. He recounted the events that had led to their return, speaking joyfully of the chase that had occurred and gruffly admitting that you had escaped outside their territory at the last moment.

Minho had let out a gleeful chuckle at the younger’s admission, laughing heartily at their expense. Hyunjin and Jisung had rolled their eyes, knowing their partner had an inclination to tease. The second-in-command took great pleasure in poking fun at his partners: a love language of sorts.

Had Minho known he would be the next to fall victim to your game, he would have teased the two less.

It’s only a few moments later that Minho lifts his head, picking up the slightest hint of your sweet scent. It filters through his senses, seizing his mind and shifting his attention. Seungmin and Jeongin are at his side a moment later, coming to a halt as they lift their noses to the sky.

Inhaling deeply once, Seungmin picks up the same inkling his elder has likely discovered. Feeling a wave of delight shiver through him, Seungmin turns to face his two partners with what looks like a wolfish grin. He shifts on his paws, testing his weight as his muscles prepare to launch.

“Hmm,” Jeongin hums with his eyes closing in a blissful feeling, “She’s s’sweet, Hyung.”

Minho responds with a chuff, shaking his coat in an attempt to clear his senses. Pawing at the ground, he feels the dregs of the thrill of the chase begin to form in his stomach. As second-in-command, Seungmin and Jeongin will wait for his word before either of them move. The notion makes Minho shiver – he greatly enjoys the dominance.

“You smell her, Minnie?” the youngest questions.

Seungmin responds with a purr of his own, sweeping his head to the ground to breathe another wave of your scent. He feels light-headed, the notion of your proximity making him feel weak. Leaning into Jeongin’s side, he looks to Minho as he speaks through their connection, “She’s close, Hyung.”

Minho nods his head, chocolate colored fur shimmering in the light of the moon. You’re only a mile or two ahead, he surmises. Downwind from your position, they can breathe your scent clearly in the night air. Underneath your pleasant scent, Minho picks up the challenge. The traces are obvious in both your sweet smell and though the bond. As he tugs his end, Minho feels a feral grin overtake his features at your alluring pull in response. Though you’re likely unaware of the reality of the bond, you definitely understand how to manipulate the metaphorical string.

“It seems Hyunjinnie wasn’t lying,” he murmurs with a smirk. “Are ya’ ready? She wants a chase.”

Seungmin is quick to respond with a deep growl, his younger mate springing to his side with a similar sound. Setting his shoulders back and getting ready to pounce off his feet, Jeongin gives Minho a silent look of confirmation.

Then the three wolves are springing forward, launching towards your direction with a ferocity surging from deep within them.

You can tell the moment their pace picks up speed from your position. Despite being so far, the enchanting change in the air and the burst of emotion in your chest is indicative of the shift. Feeling the adrenaline begin to pump through your veins, you let a sprawling grin take over your cheeks as you turn back towards your cottage.

Shooting a last glance at your ‘gift,’ you turn on your feet and start running. They may be a mile behind, but you know their superior speed and strength will catch up to you quickly. When the night air rushes past you with a chill, you grin as howls fill the silence of the forest.

The chase is on once more.

Blood pumping and breaths coming out in pants, you feel the thrill overtake your body. It’s so alluring to feel the delight overtake you in these moments. With the new bond roaring beneath your skin and your mind racing, you leap through the little path you’ve memorized. Soaring over fallen branches and hooting with glee, you let your voice fill the sounds of wolfish howls.

Minho’s heart stutters as your own elated sounds echo after their primal ones. Pushing himself faster, he can sense your proximity – not too much farther from him now. He won’t let you get away, not like the others did,

Jeongin and Seungmin respond with their own ecstatic hoots, picking up their pace as the elder did. Their own emotions surge and swell in a mighty storm, feeling lighter than they’ve ever been as they race through the towering pines.

These three are quick, you realize as you close in on your cottage. They’re coming closer than the previous two had. With your heart slamming in your chest and stomach twisting with glee, you attempt to push yourself a fraction faster. Your lungs scream for air, as if the mouthfuls you inhale aren’t enough. However, you know the reward is far too sweet to give in just yet.

With a few yards left, you think you can feel the hot breaths of the lead werewolf across your back. Skirt twisting in the wind, you feel your heart skip a beat as you decipher how close they are from you. Heart in your throat, but not uncomfortably, you judge how far you are from the boundary line. It’s not far, but the wolves are even closer.

Nerves alight and goosebumps breaking across your skin, you decide to take a chance. With the tree line coming into view, you feel the forms of the wolves closing in. Oh, they’re much quicker than the other two – or perhaps less competitive. It seems the playful rivalry between the two previous wolves had impeded their ability to catch up to you.

With their forms coming too close, you suddenly dive to the side. Feet skidding across the dirt, you almost topple over in an attempt to catch yourself from the risky maneuver. As you try to keep yourself upright, you spot the dark chocolate color of fur fly by your side. The lead wolf shoots by, missing your form as you dove to the side. He lets out a shout of surprise, claws skidding across the dirt as he spins back to face you.

You smirk as you pick the pace back up. He’d played right into your trap, giving you the precious few moments you needed to cross the boundary line. Panting harshly and grinning in accomplishment, you throw your head back with a gleeful victorious shout.

“Fuck!” Minho snarls. He’d fallen for your ruse. Hyunjin had been right - you were cunning. As he paces the boundary line with a defeated growl, he can’t help but admire how wolfish you look in your pride. The heat under his skin still simmers vibrantly, but Minho is adept at keeping his feelings under control.

You turn back to the brown wolf, grinning brightly at his darkened irises and tense shoulders. Despite the monstrous look, you find you’re not at all afraid of the wolves. You are well aware they would never lay a hand to harm you. The magical thrum connecting you and the eight speaks to that promise.

Giving Minho a smug look, knowing he doesn’t yet know of your plan, you watch him pace the line once more. Delight surges in your chest and the feeling is alluring.

“Alright, Sweetheart,” he hisses to himself, “You win this one.”

Defeat is not a pleasant feeling, but Minho admits that the chase had been thrilling. Adrenaline still pumps through his system and he feels the enchanting allure that Hyunjin and Jisung had spoken of. It had been more than fun to pursue you through the trees, keeping your back in his view and tasting you on his tongue, Minho had never felt more alive. Though he’d failed to catch you, Minho too, knows the reward will be so much sweeter than the chase.

One day, he promises – one day, he’ll tear you apart. He can’t wait for the moment you lie beneath his form – weak to his whims and head thrown back in pleasure. Minho swears he will never see a more beautiful thing. Your beauty is perhaps only rivaled by that of his other partners.

You don’t say anything to Minho this time, knowing he has yet to discover your trick. The two other wolves are not behind him, and you are fairly certain of what has caught their attention. The chocolate wolf does not seem to realize their absence yet, but you turn back to your homely cottage with a grin, waiting for the discovery to sink in.

When the door falls shut behind your form, obscuring your body from his sight, Minho finally realizes his younger partners are not behind him. Shaking off the lusty haze that blurred his mind, he turns back to the darkened pines at his rear. Stepping back into the depths of their territory, Minho reaches out through the bond for Jeongin and Seungmin.

There’s a strike of worry in his chest, the pang hitting uncomfortably in his ribs as he scans the trees for his younger mates.

However, before he has a chance to call for them, the two wolves are bursting through the trees in front of him, already transformed into their human forms. Standing on two legs and feeling the night air brush against his bare skin, Jeongin’s eyes are blown wide. Darkened pupils fill the space of his irises, overtaking the space with lust clear in the swirling depths. He clutches something tightly in his fist, as if protecting the item of his desire.

The youngest stumbles as he comes to a stop, clearly affected by something that has overtaken his senses. Jeongin’s head feels as though it may burst. It’s overcrowded with thoughts of you and the article of clothing he grips firmly in his fingers. It still smells fresh, as though you had only taken it off moments ago, and the thought makes Jeongin weak in the knees. It overpowers his very being, setting each of his nerves on fire with blazes of indecent emotion.

Seungmin looks no different, panting breath and eyes wide, he stalks towards his lover with a salacious look.

“Hyung,” he nearly whimpers, breath catching on the word. His chest is tight and his voice breathy. Speaking feels all too much, and as he inhales, he catches another deep whiff of the cloth clutched in Jeongin’s fingers. Feeling his knees go weak, he shivers in delight and leans into Minho, who has quickly shifted back to his own human form. The elder catches Seungmin in his arms, feeling his skin buzz at the connection.

Eyebrows furrowing, Minho turns to look back at Jeongin with confusion evident in his features. He’s still reeling from his defeat, but the look on Seungmin’s face has bewilderment swirling in his chest. Jeongin looks back at his mate with a haughty smirk on his face, shining teeth catching in the light as he grins with lust evident.

“Pretty Girl left us a gift, Hyung.”

With his chest surging with carnal desire, Jeongin holds out his hands and lets the scraps of inky black fabric fall into the open air. Minho feels the breath leave his lungs as the scent that clings to the cloth seeps into the air, filling his chest and making his knees tremble. Now truly understanding Seungmin's squirming form, Minho lets his eyes trail from the pair of black panties in Jeongin’s grasp to the path that leads back to your humble cottage.

With an enraged snarl, Minho feels desire warp his being as he shakes.

“That fucking slut!”

His words aren’t malicious, but Jeongin still shivers with the weight of them. The two younger werewolves are well aware of the indecent names that fall from Minho’s lips in the heat of the moment – they’ve both been on the receiving end more than once before.

“Smells s’fucking good, Minho,” Seungmin simpers, sinking into his parter as his head swirls. “M’gonna go crazy, I swear”

Minho knows all too well the feeling that warps Seungmin’s conscious, for the same emotion swirls in his own mind; it makes him dizzy and he has to step backward to balance himself. Your fresh scent is everywhere, it tingles on his tongue and he shakes with the feeling. He barely maintains control of his wolf, begging to break free and howl with desire into the chilling night air. Swaying on his feet, Minho is surrounded by you. There’s hints of his lovers intertwined in your scent, and Minho feels as though his heart may burst with both arousal and affection. He can smell stains of your arousal in the fabric and Minho understands what it feels like to lose his mind.

Shaking his head to clear his senses, he tries to keep himself upright. It does not work, but Minho swears he can keep himself together for a few more minutes.

“C’mon - Chan’s gonna want to see this.”

Jeongin audibly whines. Seungmin’s throat hurts when he echoes a similar sound. It cuts short when Minho’s big fingers pull at the back of his neck, scruffing him despite the lack of their wolfish forms. Seungmin’s whine cuts short, going limp into Minho’s arms.

“Minho-” Jeongin whimpers, feeling the desire surge again. He’s not quite sure he’ll be able to make it all the way back to the pack house in this state. His legs are weak and he feels as though you’ve sent him into a premature rut.

Minho huffs a snarl, sending Jeongin a look. As second-in-command, his word is final. However, Minho is not cruel. He may be teasing with his dominance, but Minho knows when enough is enough. Duty always comes first in his mind – desire must fall second for the moment. With a smirk, Minho pulls Seungmin up his chest a little.

“Enough. We report to Chan, and then you two are mine.”

And the second chase ends quite similarly to the first.

When Minho returns from patrol that evening, practically dragging his two younger mates by their scruffs, Chan looks up from his place by the kitchen counter with interest. He could tell something had changed in their bond, an electric fizzling that felt much like arousal had filtered through each of the wolves not long ago. However, Chan could feel a new and exciting rush of emotion that he rarely experienced.

Unsure of the change that had occurred, he perked up when the door opened. It nearly slammed against the wall with the force at which Minho had flung it open. His second-in-command is visibly trembling, barely keeping himself at bay against the torrent of emotion that wrecks his form. Eyes blown wide and darkened pupils enlarged, Minho looks feral.

“Minho?” Chan questions, standing from his position to step towards his partner. He’s confused and a little wary, unsure of the events that have led to such a reaction.

From over Minho’s shoulder, Chan catches a glimpse of his two youngest mates. They’re leaned against each other, barely keeping themselves upright and pressing every possible inch of skin together. It seems as though they cannot bear to be apart. Their eyes are a mirror of Minho’s – pupils dilated and blown wide with lust swimming in their murky depths.

Jeongin audibly whimpers under Chan’s gaze, his head tilted to bare his neck - where Chan’s mating mark glistens with a glimpse of sweat. The other wolves have their own; seven marks dwell on each of them, but only Chan’s mark sits in the crevice between shoulder and throat: the mark of an Alpha.

Chan feels his own arousal spike at Jeongin’s show of submission, but the pack leader attempts to shake off this feeling until he understands the situation better. His stomach twists with the feeling, but Chan buries it deep. Seungmin is seemingly not paying attention. His eyes are foggy with lust gripping him tight, and Chan knows he will not get an answer from him.

“S’going on?” Chan tries again, stepping forward towards Minho once more. It’s clear the three wolves are ensnared in desire’s hold, but there’s still something missing – something that has happened on their evening patrol.

Minho’s hazy eyes glint in the light and a smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. Chan feels apprehension swirl in his chest at the expression, wondering if he even wants to know the answer to his own question.

“Our little angel left a present for us tonight, Hyung.”

The furrow in Chan’s brow seems to deepen at Minho’s comment. The pack leader is well aware of the challenge he has set forth - just as he knows of the first chase that occurred between you, Hyunjin and Han. He had been extremely pleased to understand that you were seemingly delighted to accept the mating bond. Wolves were strange creatures, and their courting customs were even odder. At first, he’d been unsure if you understood the challenge he issued upon your first meeting.

However, when Hyunjin and Han returned to their home a few days later with their eyes blown wide and frenzied smiles on their lips - just as Minho and the others do now, Chan knew you were fully aware of the decision you had made. If the deepening breadth of the magical bond between you was any indication, you wanted this as much as they did.

“A present?” Chan’s rumbling voice sounds.

Minho’s vague response only leaves the pack leader with more questions, and Chan steps forward again to press his second-in-command further. The implication of a second chase had been obvious, and your teasing nature would be enough to leave his mates in a carnal frenzy. However, he was not prepared for how cunning you could be when it came to driving his mates mad.

As he approaches his partner, Chan is halted when he picks up hints of your scent in the air. Just a glimpse of your serene smell is enough to stun him. It addles his senses, blurring his thoughts as they begin to transform into images of you. Chest beginning to ache with a burning longing, Chan shakes his head to clear his mind.

Minho, barely clutching to the remnants of his ever-slipping sanity, smirks with a mirthful look and reaches his hand out towards his eldest lover. The pack leader can tell the waves of your scent originate from Minho’s closed fingers, and like a wolf tracking its prey, Chan’s eyes lock onto the outstretched appendage.

Chan is so desperately unprepared for the barrage of emotions that crash into his mind when Minho’s fingers unfurl: revealing a dark onyx pair of panties, still overflowing with your fresh scent and clearly brimming with implications of your desire.

Minho has never seen his Alpha so weak.

With his consciousness still blurry and body barely held back by the grip of his sanity, Minho watches his mighty leader tremble at the knees. It’s nearly instantaneous; Chan’s pupils dilate - the darkness in the inky masses overtaking the color that once shone lightly. His shoulders go lax and Minho can already smell the waves of lusty pheromones that Chan has unconsciously started releasing.

From behind him, Jeongin and Seungmin keen, finally collapsing into a heap at their Alpha’s strong scent. Whining and pushing into each other, they rub bare skin against each other in the hopes of releasing some of the heat that burns so strongly under their flesh. Minho nearly gives in to temptation – he wants nothing more than to turn and descend upon his partners, letting the whim of desire command his next movements.

Yet Minho is infatuated with the look that has fallen over Chan’s features.

He cannot tear his eyes away from his pack leader, watching with a bated breath as Chan steps toward him. Under his primal gaze, Minho has never felt more weak to his pack leader than now. Somewhere deep in his gut, Minho feels a prick of excitement filter through him. Usually so dominant, the second-in-command is a little eager to see what happens next.

A hungry, desperate sound escapes Chan’s lips when he halts in front of Minho. Skin almost touching, Minho extends his fist once more at his leader’s call. Offering the scraps of ebony cloth to Chan, Minho feels his spine shiver when Chan’s skin rubs against his own as he pulls the article into his grasp.

“Fuck.”

The sound is so unlike Chan. Minho had expected him to sound so much more daunting - as he himself had been filled with primal anger not so long ago. This sound, however, is so much weaker. The word escapes Chan’s lips barely louder than a whisper. It’s a weak sound, almost a whimper falling from his lips with a desperation Minho has seldom seen.

Chan is overflowing with emotion, and he suddenly understands why his mates had been so unruly when they returned to the house a few days ago.

His chest aches and surges with a torrent of desire and longing. Your scent surrounds him and Chan thinks his wolf may burst forth and take over the last threads of his dwindling sanity. Such a little thing, he manages to think – such a little thing can destroy them so easily.

Only a moment later, Chan recedes back into himself. Transforming back into the dominant pack leader the others are used to, Chan growls out an angry, desperate sound.

“Fuck!”

He repeats the word, this time with the carnal rage Minho had been expecting. With shivers rolling down his back, the bond surges with emotion. Likely radiating to the rest of the pack, Chan sighs a deep whiff of your scent and lets himself sink into your aura.

“Hm, this s’how she wants t’play?” he murmurs, feeling himself fade into the grip of desire. Chan lets his wolf press against the forefront of his mind, allowing it to control his carnality. Descending on Minho, his teeth ache against his gums as he presses his canines into his mate’s skin. Still human, they scrape against the smooth skin of Minho’s neck, and the younger grunts under the pressure, but does not move. Chan’s next words are moaned into Minho’s skin, gripping his partner tight to his body with your panties still clutched in his fist.

“Oh, we can play dirty, Baby.”

Letting out a huff as you stretch to reach the heavy bag of sugar on one of the taller shelves, you pull down the item and set it on the counter before you.

The cafe always slows down around the afternoon. You’re open later into the day, but there’s often time to restock and compile things in the back room as the hours get later. Not as many customers filter through your sweet little shop in the afternoon, but that’s no bother to you. It gives you more time to start ‘special’ brews in the back – potions and elixirs of the sort.

While you operate as an ordinary cafe during the day, the evenings are targeted towards the supernatural. It’s not well advertised, but other creatures know what to look for. Commissions for specific potions and special elixirs are just the start of the wonders you can brew in the afternoon hours.

You had just completed a very complex potion - one that had taken you nearly a month to finish with the utmost care. It had been an expensive request, but one you were more than willing to perfect for a friend. A potion of immortality; not an easy potion to brew, and even more difficult to prepare correctly. The commission had nearly run you dry of ingredients, and frustrated you to no end. Yet, they had compensated for your troubles with far more payment than you would have asked.

Of course, when eight demons - let alone the eight princes of Hell itself - knock on your door and make a request, you were more than willing to drop everything to assist them.

Besides, they were friends. You’d even given their sweet soulmate some mirthful advice when she had approached you a few weeks back – something about a salt circle and how it would hold against the High King of Hell.

When the bell to the door jingles loudly from the front room, you look up from the counter. The sugar emptied in its proper storage container, you throw the bag into the waste bin and tie your apron tighter around your waist. Preparing to meet the customers who have entered your shop, you suddenly feel a wave of familiarity overtake your body.

Fingers stilling on the tie of your apron, you inhale a deep breath and feel the recognizable aura of your wolves filter through you. The bond tugs teasingly from their end, and you're suddenly aware you’ve never seen any of the werewolves outside their territory.

The thought is both daunting and exciting. Unbound by the laws that prevent them from pursuing you in wolfish form, you shiver at the thought of what mischief they will get up to now. You find yourself surging with delight and anticipating, wanting to see their human forms as well as finally speak to them.

You only recognize one of the auras behind the door that separates you from the front room. There's two other werewolves with him, but you can feel the familiar teasing bond that connects you to one of the wolves from the first night. You cannot tell which it is, as their auras had blended together that night, but you know for certain one of them lies beyond the wooden frame.

Inhaling deeply to soothe the worried excitement and build your confidence, you step forward and push open the folding door to the backroom.

There’s no one else in the cafe - tables empty of patrons and cleared of dishes for the afternoon. The only forms in your little building are the bodies of the three werewolves that stand at your counter, smiles on their lips and something glistening deep in their irises.

You have to prevent yourself from staring.

The three men at your counter are breathtakingly attractive. Your breath is nearly stolen from your lungs at the sight of them. The one standing in front is the shortest of the three, but he is outstandingly the most muscular. His biceps bulge underneath the dark shirt squeezing them, and you have to avert your eyes to keep yourself from lingering on their shape. His lips raise at the corner when he notices how your eyes have to shift away. Dark hair shifting when his head tilts, he looks incredibly alluring in the light of the afternoon.

Behind him, a slightly taller man stands with a wide grin on his lips, and you suddenly feel as though the sun itself has graced you with its warmth.

His longer blondish, silver hair rests against his neck, blending beautifully with the smooth skin and darker freckles that coat his cheeks. Teeth white and shining in his sweet grin, you feel warm from the inside out under his eyes. This man is the embodiment of sunshine - and he radiates kindness coupled with a teasing mirth that you can only detect through the bond that buzzes between you. He’s so alluring, you have to shift your gaze to the final man to break your concentration.

The blonde is leaning against the tallest of the three - and with a stuttering breath, you realize this is the larger black wolf that pursued you during the first chase; the one who stalked the edges of their territory, attempting to lure you back into his grasp with bolts of arousal sent down your bond. You remember his dark eyes and his dominating aura, feeling waves of thrill filter through your stomach at the memory.

He stands to the side, his arm wrapped around the blonde’s waist with a smirk pulling the side of his mouth upward. When a rolling burst of delight shivers down your spine, you feel his satisfaction swarm you. You recognized him, and the thought makes him keen.

The tallest of the three is beautiful in a way that makes you hesitate. He’s princely – dazzlingly pretty with smooth skin and the top of his long blond hair pulled into a ponytail behind his head. Strands of his bangs frame his face, dangling in front of his eyes as a headband holds the rest back from falling from its place behind his head. He regards you with a confident, sultry look that makes your legs weak. There's a little dark, freckle beneath one of his eyes and you are overcome with the urge to press your lips against it.

As if he can read your mind, his head tilts with another smirk. Eyes racking over your form, you shiver again and the sight seems to excite him more.

With excitement prickling under your skin, you manage to step forward around the counter with a smile pulling at your lips.

“Hello,” you murmur sweetly, feeling genuine happiness at their arrival. “Can I help you three?”

Stepping forward to greet them, you feel another beat of delight pull you nearer to their forms - almost as if their very existence draws you closer. The tallest hums, the sound warm as he regards you. His voice is nearly a purr when he answers you.

“Oh, you most certainly can.”

“Hyunjin!” the blonde murmurs with a smile, digging his fingers into the taller’s side. “What happened to ‘going slow?’”

You giggle fondly at their display, covering your mouth with your hand. The two look up from each other with their eyes glimmering. Looking back at you with smiles stretching across their lips, they seem to adore the sound that falls from your lips.

“S’alright,” you tease, “I suppose there’s nothing ‘slow’ about how we met before, so there’s no need to hesitate now.”

Hyunjin, the wolf you met the first night, smiles even wider at your words. Satisfied with your response, he looks back at his younger partner with the same grin. ‘See?’ the teasing look seems to say.

The darker haired man in front rolls his eyes playfully. The action does not seem annoyed, more so mirthfully done as he appears used to the two’s antics. Uncrossing his arms from across his chest - an action you find yourself missing as your eyes leave his chest - he reaches a hand out with a smile of his own.

“Changbin,” he offers with a deep voice. “We figured we should probably formally introduce ourselves if our ‘meetings’ are going to continue.” He says the word with a honeyed, crooning sound - one that makes your stomach turn with heat.

You reach out your own hand with an offer of your own name, gently grasping his fingers as you speak. As your hand closes around his, you feel a striking beat of heat in your chest. You look up at him in surprise, and are met with a smirking smile. He seems to completely understand the feeling, as a pleased sound escapes his lips. You eye his hand with a look, then turn back to him with a questioning, teasing look.

He shrugs off the look, letting you know it would likely be explained later. When he lets go of your hand, you miss its warmth and the flood of pleasant emotion that came with it.

Though, his partner steps forward next, offering his own to replace the loss.

“M’Felix,” he adds happily. His voice is deep, and you feel like you’re drowning in the waves of his soothing voice. You feel the same warmth filter through you at his touch. He truly is sunshine incarnate. When the same bolt of heat sinks into you upon contact with his hand, you feel it settle low in your stomach as you crave more of it.

With his smile brighter than any other, you feel a strange urge to squeeze his soft cheeks and scatter the freckles and sunspots with kisses. It’s a little strange to have such thoughts upon your first meeting, but you suppose this magical bond is much odder.

The last of them, Hyunjin, steps forward finally. His hand leaves Felix’s waist with difficulty, almost as if separating from him is painful. Yet, he reaches his hand out all the same. Long fingers dangling in front of you, you regard him with a mirthful look - one he happily returns.

“Hyunjin.”

You wrap your fingers around his hand, finally shivering in delight as you finally put a face to the name of the wolf who had chased you not so long ago. His touch is remarkably sweet despite the roaring pleasure that seems to spawn from it. Hyunjin seems to send the heat down the bond as he touches you, more than ecstatic to finally touch you after being deprived that night.

“S’nice to finally put a name to a face,” you playfully respond. “Or - snout, I suppose.”

Hyunjin offers a little growl, teasingly pulling you a fraction closer. His voice drops back to a purr, honeyed sound echoing through you as he speaks.

“So you do remember me?”

“I remember you losing,” you respond with mirth in your voice, having to turn away from his darkened irises as you speak. Being this close to him makes you weak in a way you could not have previously imagined. It’s a wonder you’re able to respond without your voice shaking.

“Oh, do you?”

Hyunjin hums deep in his chest, the sound nearly making you tremble with delight. His hand has not left yours, but you don't want it to. You adore the feeling of their skin against yours, and you find yourself not wanting it to leave.

Felix huffs a laugh into Changbin’s shoulder, leaning into his older mate with a grin. It’s very funny to watch the two of you playfully bicker. Changbin feels a smirk of his own drift onto his cheeks. It’s nice to see someone put Hyunjin in his place; as if he doesn’t get enough of that from him, Minho or Chan.

You respond with a hum of your own, resisting the urge to lean into Hyunjin as you do. This close, you can breathe in the intoxicating scent that surrounds the blonde. In a moment of clarity, you wonder if he dyes his hair – his wolf being a deep brown, nearly black.

You shake off the thought when he leans a little closer. Changbin smirks when you shrink bashfully under Hyunjin’s proximity. For all your mirth, it seems you are weak under their hold. The notion makes his chest swell, already imagining all sorts of scenarios in which he wants to corrupt that sweet, sheepish look.

“Next time -” Hyunjin coos as he pushes closer to press his lips to the shell of your ear to murmur the words. “Next time, I won't lose.”

You physically shiver slightly as his breath tickles your cheek. His proximity makes your brain still, suddenly surrounded by him. Everything in your mind is now focused on Hyunjin. The smooth expanse of his skin and the warmth of it beneath your fingers pushes desperately at the forefront of your mind. You want to push closer - to bury yourself in his chest as you had seen Felix do. You wonder how his fingers would feel on your cheeks, or even perhaps, less decent places too.

Hyunjin feels his stomach leap with pride when he weakens visibly under his motions. The dominating feeling presses into his throat and grips him tightly, and he knows he’ll have to coax one of the others into his bed to burn off the heat later.

Changbin pulls Felix closer to his side as Hyunjin speaks, feeling his own burst of dominance pulse when Hyunjin begins to release intoxicating pheromones. You won’t be able to smell them, but he and Felix surely do.

“Yeah?” you murmur weakly back, feeling much less confidence as Hyunjin leers over you with desire clear in his eyes.

“Hmm,” he agrees, chest rumbling with the sound. You swear you can feel his ribs shake with the sound.

When he pulls away, you nearly follow after him. Missing his touch and his warmth, you are desperate to feel his hands again. You have to shake your head to clear your mind of the thoughts as Hyunjin leans back. With your mind back on track, you question what the three have entered your cafe for.

Suddenly in a different mindset, Changbin reiterates what Chan had requested: several stamina potions and an elixir that allows the wearer resistance to wolfsbane.

You nod with a clearer head, writing down the orders on a pad from the pocket of your apron. Already taking mental stock of the material you have on hand on what you’ll have to collect, you agree happily.

“They can be finished tomorrow evening,” you supply, setting down the notepad on the counter behind you. “Can you send someone to pick them up then?”

“Absolutely,” Changbin nods. He already knows which of his partners will be the next to vie for an opportunity to see you. With how much of a fight Han and Jeongin had put up when they left, Changbin knows convincing any of the others to meet you tomorrow evening will not be a difficulty.

You nod with a grin on your cheeks, moving to step behind the counter before you’re stopped once more. Changbin leans forward, his hand gripping yours gently. Moving away from Felix, the dark haired man suddenly steps impossibly closer.

His chest nearly presses against yours and you have to physically tear your eyes away for his muscle to meet his eyes. However, perhaps it would have been easier to continue staring at his chest, as the moment you meet his dark eyes you find yourself striking under the lust that seems to swirl in their depths. Changbin is perhaps more dominating than Hyunjin, and heat swells in your stomach when he scans your form beneath his. A smirk pulls up his lips and he pushes closer again, savoring the sweet squeak that leaves your lips when your forms meet.

Felix cannot resist temptation.

Both Changbin and Hyunjin have had the chance to get closer - to feel your skin under their own and feel the beat of your heart so near. With a dizzy feeling, Felix steps away from Hyunjin. His eyes are cloudy with something you can't place, but from beneath Changbin, you recognize that his eyes are on you.

Tearing your gaze from the darker haired werewolf, you manage to meet Felix’s pretty irises. He’s giving you a look – a question swirling in the darkness of his pupils. With your mind slowly succumbing to Changbin’s aura, you vaguely realize that Felix is asking for permission.

A woozy nod is all the answer he needs.

Felix slides behind you with his chest nearly pressing against your back. He’s so warm, so kind when he pushes closer. You feel his chest vibrate with a hum, the beat of his heart quickening to match the pace of your own. You vaguely notice that your pulse is the same as his - as Changbin’s, and if you were close enough, likely Hyunjin’s too.

Rumbling softly, you feel his skin move under yours and you feel light-headed. Changbin feels his stomach twist with desire when he smells the barest wave of arousal coat your thighs. If he were any weaker, he would have you with your permission now. However, he knows what Chan has planned. The reward at the end of their hunt will be so much sweeter.

Felix slides an arm around you to touch Changbin, unable to hold back from feeling the skin of his partner. His eyes close, head tilting back in the slightest as the touch of your skin registers in his mind.

“Pretty?” he addresses you, leaning down as Hyunjin had to speak the words directly into your ear. The name makes you keen, elated to be referred to with such a moniker.

“Hmm?” is the only sound you manage to offer in response.

“Thanks for the gift, Pretty Girl,” he coos, moving his strong hand behind you to tuck something into your back pocket. Your body trembles under his touch, feeling the way he leaves his hand at your backside for a moment too long. He pushes something into the pocket of your jeans, humming pleasantly as he does. He adores the way you seem so weak underneath him. Oh, how he longs to corrupt you further.

“Bring us a new pair, next time?,” Changbin continues, “Something pink – it’s Chan’s favorite.” Though you don’t know Chan by name, Changbin suspects you are aware of the reference to their Alpha.

With a keen and your head knocking back to expose your throat, Changbin has to use all his strength to not lean forward to set his lips to the skin. It’s been made very clear that Chan will be the first to mark you – Changbin will have to wait his turn. But the sight of your skin bare beneath him, with you so willingly offering it to him, Changbin has to pull back his wolf as it cries to sink his teeth into your skin with a carnal desire.

Felix adores the way you shiver against him, feeling the brush of Changbin’s hand against the front of his jeans due to his proximity. He feels his own resolve weaken, his stomach twists with delight and heat rising to his cheeks as his partner moves.

It takes great difficulty to pull himself away, and Changbin has to lean into Felix to stop himself from pushing back into you. With an acknowledging nod, the three finally turn to leave your little cafe. It all happens so quickly, you barely feel time pass until their forms disappear down the street.

When you can no longer see them, all strength leaves your legs and you sag against the counter at your back. The bond roars under your skin and every nerve is on fire. So little touch manages to drive you mad – you cannot imagine how it will feel when they finally capture you.

Taking a deep breath to cool yourself down and rubbing your thighs together, you shakily reach for your back pocket. Skin still buzzing from Changbin’s touch, you pull out the cloth that he has stuffed into the crevice of your jeans.

Under the light of the dimming afternoon sky, you exhale harshly at the sight of the tattered cloth in your grip. Torn nearly to shreds, it seems the werewolves have greatly appreciated your gift from a few nights ago. The notion makes you buzz in anticipation. The implication of their strength is not lost on you. If they have torn this apart, you cannot wait for what they will do to you upon your capture.

With the knowledge of their pack leader’s favorite color, your buzzing mind makes quick plans. It seems you’re in desperate need of a pair of pink panties – it’s Chan’s favorite color, after all.

Minho mentions it when he returns from morning patrol.

He’d gone out alone that morning, before the sun had broken through the trees and cast its golden light through the darkness of the coniferous pines. The air still clung to the chill of night, but Minho was not bothered - his fur was thick and his body temperature was higher than a human’s. The cold did not bother any of them.

Just as the sun was breaking over the horizon beyond your cottage, Minho smelled it.

He wasn't far from your home, just a couple of miles and he would be able to see the smoke from the crackling fire in your chimney. The knowledge of your proximity suddenly makes him very nervous. Hair standing on end, Minho's snout lowers to the floor. He tracks the scent until it reaches the border of their territory, far from your cottage.

Vampire.

Once he checked on your home once more, waiting to see your head emerge from the back door as you headed to work, Minho returned to the pack house. Your safety ensured, the second-in-command takes off. His paws slap against the earth as he bounds back to his pack leader with the news.

“A vampire?” Chan questions, his words are tense but don’t reveal the anxiety that pushes at his throat. It settles there with a sickening feeling, but Chan ignores it. “Are you sure?”

Minho’s nod is immediate. He’s absolutely sure of what he smelled - there is no doubt in his mind. There was a vampire in their territory last night. After evening patrol had returned, it had likely slipped over their borders. Investigating or hunting, they were not sure.

What Chan was sure of, however, was that you were no longer safe alone in their territory.

“Shit, okay,” Chan curses. In the seclusion of just himself and his second-in-command, Chan allows himself a moment of worry. Minho is one of the only pack members he shows this side of himself to. Though his partners are extremely important to him, Chan doesn’t want them to worry. He keeps this anxious part of himself locked away, ensuring that the others shouldn’t have to experience the same.

However, this does not mean that the others don’t worry. God, if the others could take some of the stress from their leader’s shoulders, they would. They know Chan is unlikely to share the burden, feeling as though the pack leader should bear their burdens alone. So they find little things to ease the weight that holds him down.

Minho and Changbin ensure that things run smoothly within the pack – ordinary everyday things that Chan shouldn’t have to worry about. Felix is an expert at eating tension need be, after all no one can resist his sweet smile and sunshine demeanor. Everyone takes part in cleaning and cooking, keeping the house nice so that these little things don’t pile on their leader’s shoulders. Jeongin brings food to Chan’s room when he secludes himself there to work. Seungmin drops by every few hours to refill his water bottle and make sure he’s drinking enough of it. Jisung is the mood maker, always managing to keep a smile on their faces despite the tension that may weigh them down.

The pack runs smoothly when everyone has their part. No one is alone and no one is left behind.

Minho’s hand reaches out to gently secure itself on Chan’s shoulder. He rubs his fingers gently, a comforting gesture that eases some of the tension in Chan’s muscles.

Chan gives Minho a grateful look, nodding his head as he decides their next course of action.

“Okay, we’ll meet her tonight,” he mutters. “Our challenge is put on hold for the next few days - at least until the vampire is gone.”

Minho nods his head, agreeing with the command. He takes a deep breath that settles some of the worry in his stomach.

“We can wait for her at dusk. Her cafe closes at 4 - she’ll be out not long after.”

Chan’s lips press into a worried smile, nodding his own head. It makes sense, and Chan is comforted by the plan. If he can convince you to stay with them for a few days, he’d feel even better. Knowing there is a vampire at the edges of their territory, so close to your home, is an unnerving sentiment. Chan would give you his own room and have the others under lock and key if it meant he could ensure your safety. Though Chan doubts that any of them would bother you with your life in question.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Chan nods. He leans into Minho for a moment, enjoying the affection from his younger mate. Minho was honestly much more akin to a cat when it came to affection - careful and hard to understand sometimes. When he allowed it, or even reached out for it, the rest of the pack greatly enjoyed the affection from Minho.

Minho ran his hand through the hair at the base of Chan’s neck, scratching gently and smiling at the hum of pleasure that escaped the pack leader’s throat. To reassure himself, Chan reaches out through your bond. He’s unsure if you'll understand the feeling, but he tugs his end of the string twice in question, praying you'll understand what he means.

He waits a beat or two in silence, his head pushed into Minho’s neck. Then, his heart stutters as he feels the other end of the string tug back. Three pulses. Chan feels you pull lightly three times, sending back a beat of comfort to reassure him that you’re alright.

With that comfort in mind, Chan allows himself to bury his face further into Minho. He breathes in the comforting, familiar scent of his mate and sighs deeply. Some of the tension has left his shoulders; the combined effort of both you and Minho easing some of his newfound worry.

“S’fine, Hyung. We’ll see her soon.”

Yet, hours later, when the sun has begun to set behind the trees and the air chills once more, you’re nowhere to be found.

After closing up the cafe earlier that day, you had decided to do something a little spontaneous. A few nights had passed since the last time you’d engaged in a chase with any of your newfound werewolf prospects. Of course, you had seen the three in your cafe not too long ago, and had been introduced to three more the following evening. It was nice to finally put faces to names, and you found that knowing what they looked like only drew you in deeper to the mystical connection between you.

The second meeting in your cafe had gone quite similar to the first. This time, Han, Jeongin and Seungmin had been the ones to greet you. The three werewolves had picked up their order and conversed with you for a few moments, teasing being passed between you as all three wolves had been stumped by you during their own attempt to catch you.

Each of them had taken a chance to get closer, sliding a teasing hand over your waist or leaning close to whisper something into your ear. There was friendly affection too, like when Jeongin fiddled with your fingers while you spoke about the pastries you baked that morning. Or when it was time for them to leave, Seungmin leaned in for a sweet hug, gently pressing you into his chest to squeeze you tight. It was nice – to experience the intimate moments in between the salacious scenes of your chases. You found yourself falling deeper and deeper into the connection that linked the nine of you together.

Of course, before Seungmin let go, his hands drifted a fraction lower. The playful, short squeeze of your backside had made you let out a short squeak, heat rising to your cheeks and your ears burning. Seungmin laughed at the sound, chest rumbling with his giggles as he offered an explanation.

“Changbin said you had a nice butt,” he murmurs playfully. You swatted him across the chest lightly, moving before he could catch your fleeting fingers.

“Well, tell Changbin I’m going to kick his when he comes out tonight.”

They had left shortly after, smirks on their cheeks and laughter smiling from their chests. By the time they disappeared from your vision, you were left feeling both giddy and buzzing with arousal. The sweet ring of anticipation simmered in your gut, and you couldn’t wait for later that evening.

With a smile on your lips and the thought of the wolves on your mind, you decided you’d venture out a little earlier tonight. Hopefully you would be able to scout a new path – something different from the previous two runs. It would be exciting to change the pace for both you and the werewolves.

As you lock up the cafe behind you, the giddiness shows in your step as you practically skip towards your car. The drive home feels shorter than it usually does; perhaps due to your enthusiasm to reach the little cottage to incite another chase.

It’s not long after you set foot in the homely cabin that you leave once more.

The new pair of sweet pink panties already donned, you feel the excitement surge again. Five of the eight wolves have partaken in the challenge issued by Chan, the pack Alpha. Assuming they will follow a similar pattern as before, you hope that the final three will be the ones to enjoy a chase this evening. Felix, Changbin, and the pack leader himself - would likely be the last to join the exhilarating mating challenge.

An arousing shiver rakes down your spine as you think of the request Changbin had made of you. The memory of his warm breath on the crevice of your neck and the press of Felix’s chest against your back makes the longing in your chest grow deeper. You wonder how Chan’s touch will feel against your bare skin. The connection that binds you to the pack leader is strong, and you can feel nearly every twitch and tug of emotion from his end. The notion makes you wonder how contact with his exposed skin against your own will feel – if the ache in your chest will finally soothe upon relishing in the depth of his touch.

Lost in your spiral of thoughts, you meander through the woods without a particular destination in mind. You only want to venture about half a mile into the trees, as you know the werewolves may be able to catch you if you go much farther. You cannot outrun them for much farther.

With dusk beginning to settle over the area, that last remnant of golden sunshine peeking through the trees, you listen to the peaceful sounds of the woodland surrounding you. The thrum of the magic that encompasses the borders of the wolves’ territory flickers for a moment, a feeling you are not used to. The magical aura that coats the edges of their land wanes under your touch, but does not weaken. It allows you entry without the expense of magic, a sentiment you understand to connect you further to the pack.

This feeling, however, is strange.

Even as you wander away from the border, you can still feel the aura shift and change, as if someone has crossed it – someone it did not entrust to the wolf kingdom. Someone it did not want inside the bounds of their land.

Your feet halt, breath catching in your throat as you suddenly feel the air go still. The sounds of the forest - the chirping of birds and the whistle of the wind through pines - all begin to fade into an eerie silence. It feels as though the very oxygen you breathe has gone stale, itching at your skin as it touches you.

Pulse stuttering in your throat, you hesitate. You had not before had fears of being alone in the woods. As long as you were in pack territory, you knew you were safer than anywhere else. That comfort had kept you from being frightened in the dark seclusion of the trees in previous nights. Now, with the startling reality of the solitude of the forest around you and the ominous fizzling of another magical presence weighing on your mind, you were more than aware of the nonsensical decision you had made.

Moving quickly, you shrink low in an attempt to cover yourself with the foliage that shrouded the area. Staying low to the ground to hopefully make yourself scarce, you take a deep breath to soothe your nerves. Your heartbeat stutters in your chest, thumping in an almost painful manner. It roars beneath your ribs and you think you can faintly hear the pulse in your eardrums.

Skin prickled with goosebumps and chest beginning to tighten with the grip of fear, you attempt to draw from the little magic you possess. It’s not much - usually just enough to sense the magical changes and auras from other supernatural creatures. You’ve never been able to cast your own spells as the witch blood that flows through your veins has long been diluted over the ages. Your witch-like nature was mostly expressed through the brewing of potions as it did not require magical prowess – only the spell books left to your possession by various ancestors.

The reminder stings painfully in your mind, only ceasing to spark another bout of fear. As you hesitate, the eerie aura slips closer.

In the darkening hours of dusk, you cannot yet see them, but you know they’re not far. With panic pushing into your throat, you do not have the conscious thought to alert the wolves. Falling back into base instinct, you are too new to the bond - too unfamiliar with its magic. In your panic, you can hardly recall its presence.

When a stick cracks in the distance, you hold your breath. There is no telling what lurks behind the seclusion of your hiding place, and you do not know if they can hear each breath you take.

Enraged tears push at the back of your eyes, suddenly furious with yourself for being so careless. There was much you could have done to prevent this, but you suppose there is no use in deliberating your mistakes. You force back the sweltering pressure that pushes against your eyes. You will not cry when there is something to be done - something to save yourself.

As another sharp, echoing crack of a fallen branch rings through the area, this time much closer, you try to puzzle through the aura of whatever being has begun to stalk you. It is quite clear they have learned of your presence. There would be no use in silent, slow tracking if they had been simply strolling through the woods.

Reaching out with the barest traces of magic, you are stricken cold to discover what lies not far from your crouched form. Their aura is sanguine red, dripping with darkness and radiating with ill-intent. It’s suffocating as it descends upon you, seeming to fill both your lungs and your brain with its vile ambience.

Vampire.

You have not had much dealings with vampires. They’re solitary creatures, perhaps more so than witches. While some reside in covens, just as your own kind may, most chose a life of solitude. It’s easier to keep prey to themselves that way. They may not all be the bloodthirsty monsters of myth, but this one certainly is. With an aura so stark red and overflowing with hunger, you know you have become its next target.

Resistantly the urge to suck in a gasp of terror, you try to keep your breaths low and steady against the palm of your hand to suppress the sound. Before you can even attempt your escape, the chilling sound of its voice filters through the biting cold air that has begun to descend.

“I can smell you, Pet.”

The tears finally begin to squeeze from your eyes. Powerless to the burn in your eyes, the salty droplets fall from your ducts and wet your fingers. Terror has finally gripped you tight. You’re frozen to its entrapment, unable to move without fear of the vampire knowing your location – though you’re quite sure it’s already well aware.

Stomach rolling with waves of anxiety, nausea beginning to burn acridly in the base of your throat, you feel as though you may vomit. You’ve never felt this pure, stirring form of fear seize you before.

With desperation beginning to settle into your mind, you wonder if you can perhaps bargain with the vampire. It’s likely a fruitless venture, but you stand no chance if it comes to a fight. A vampire overpowers you in both strength and speed; you will not be able to outmaneuver it if you choose to run.

Breath catching in your throat, you attempt to speak around the grip of nausea. Voice warbled with fear, though you try desperately to suppress it, you speak.

“You don't want to do this.”

An unsettling laugh seems to spark a chill so deep into your form that you think it may nestle into the fiber of your very bones. They’re closer now. The eerie sound of their laugh comes from the thicket of pines to your right - back the way you came, towards your home.

“And why not?” The vampire responds, ire rising in their tone. “You smell remarkably sweet, Little Witch – and it would be oh so easy to have a taste.”

An uncontrolled shiver rakes down your spine and your hair stands on end. The frigid air settles into your skin, raising the goosebumps on the exposed flesh. His words are unsettling, only adding another wave to the already storming sea of panic in your stomach. The vampire seems to be enjoying the way you nearly tremble in fear, the smugness showing in his voice when he answers.

Your brain races as you attempt to find a reason. Panic pushes at your head and your mind is moving too quickly. Ideas race past and you cannot seem to grasp one with a conscious thought. It feels as though you are drowning in the depths of your own mind, unable to grasp hold of a single thing to say.

It’s only when you feel a single tug on the buried string in your chest, do you remember. The pull is strong, reaching out with a worried apprehension, and you can barely feel it over the tightness that keeps you still.

“The wolves!” you gasp out, voice airy as you barely manage to stutter out the word. “This is werewolf territory – you can’t touch me here!”

The vampire snarls.

You still once more, the sound seeming to strike you frozen. You almost expect the vampire to descend on you then, with sharp fangs and bloodlust surging within the vile creature. He sounds furious at your exclamation, as if the mention of werewolves was a personal attack. Well, you suppose it kind of is.

“Werewolves,” he sneers. You can practically hear the way his lip curls over the word. Disgust lingers in his tone, the sound nearly making you angry on behalf of the wolves you’ve come to treasure. “As if I care for what wolves think.”

You shudder.

If the strength of a wolf pack is not enough to stale the vampire, what can you do? A witch with so little magic, unequipped and alone in the woods. If you reach out now, with the reminder of your bond only just coming to fruition, will the wolves be able to make it to you? With so little space between you and the beast, you fear your dear wolves will only arrive to find your limp corpse, drained of blood and blank to the world.

The thought is a sickening lump you cannot swallow.

As the vampire closes in, the acrid feeling in your throat pushes into your mouth. Stomach swelling and turning with fear, your pulse stutters again. With so little options left, you decide you will take your chances.

Acting with haste, you lift from the depths of your hiding place and immediately push off the balls of your feet. Taking off into the trees, you race away from the path in the hopes that the mass of trees and winding steps will allow you a little breadth from the vampire. Heart racing and feeling your lungs wheeze with each inhale, you push yourself beyond your limits. With your life in the balance, the adrenaline allows you to keep running.

With your legs pumping, you finally reach out.

You hope you can maintain enough distance between you and the vampire for the wolves to arrive. There's not much of a chance, but you hope that you’ll at least give them a chance. Any sooner, and you fear they’ll be finding your lifeless body. As you reach out now, panic fueled terror racing down the connection, you pull at any of the strings you manage to grasp. It’s so difficult to focus on the bond as you race through the trees, but you force yourself to continue. It’s your only chance.

You do not have the conscious thought to feel how they respond.

The vampire, seeming to have expected this, snarls and takes off behind you.

His much quicker form descends on you quickly, easily keeping pace with you. He seems to be enjoying the chase, hooting as tears leak from your eyes and blur your vision. With your path winding between trees and dodging fallen logs, you're able to maintain a fraction of distance between yourself and the beast.

This is far different from the chases between you and the werewolves.

Those runs left you feeling light and excited, body rushing with a pleasant buzz of adrenaline and the longing humming in the bond. In those moments, the thrill was shared consensually between both you and the wolves, keeping the both of you ecstatic for each moment.

This chase, between you and a monstrous beast who intends to drain your body of its precious life-force, is much different.

The adrenaline that fuels you now is not of excitement, but that of terror. It pumps into your limbs and keeps you from shaking. However, it does nothing for the panic that crashes into your head. Your mind races with fear and you cannot push away the tears that race down your cheeks. With your thoughts solely focused on dodging the trunks of trees and the lashing of outstretched branches, you do not have a conscious track of mind to stop the salty liquid from blurring your vision.

Legs pumping and calves burning, you are powerless to the vampire’s strength. With a pained cry, he collides with you. It’s a short moment, just enough for the monster to shove you off your feet.

Heart a swollen lump in your throat, you weep out a sobbing sound of fear as you tumble down a short cliff side. Sharp branches cutting into your skin, exposing the bloody flesh underneath, you hiss in pain. Your fall is stopped when you collide with a fallen tree trunk. Back slamming into the pine, you squeak another miserable sound.

Terror squeezes you tight. You can barely feel the stinging pain of the open wounds under the grip of fear. Blood drips down the bare skin of your arms, but you can barely feel it. The throb in your ankle burns from where you’ve likely sprained it, and you pull the limbs closer to you.

Now openly weeping, you choke on the cry that tries to break free from your lungs.

“Please!” you cry, the sound warbled by the blur of tears. Clutching your arms to your chest, you try to put pressure on the bleeding scrapes. Any attempt to cover the blood from the nose of the vampire is fruitless.

The vampire laughs coldly as he emerges from the darkness. Sun now long gone from the sky, the vampire has nothing to fear.

“Don't cry, Pet,” he mocks with smugness. “It’s only a taste.”

Frantically now, you pull harder on the bond. Yanking as strongly as you can, ignorant to the pulses of fear you send alongside it, you furiously pull with the hopes they can discern your plea.

As he descends towards you, a cruel smirk smeared across his face, you finally begin to tremble. Holding a single hand out, you summon every fiber of magic in your form and force it outward. It weakens you greatly, taking every thread of energy along with the flare of magic. The resulting burst of flame is only a momentary distraction, singing the vampire’s clothes as he pushes closer.

Snarling at your attempt to fight, he laughs cruelly as he finally closes in on your shaking form. Weeping and trembling, you weakly drop your hand and finally curl upon yourself in an attempt to cover your vital organs.

When the vile beast is inches from your skin, a startling moment passes as he hisses and suddenly draws back as if your very being is laced with poison. A frown twisting his features, you are no longer aware of his actions as you pull yourself tighter into your body.

“You cunning witch!” the vampire sneers, disgust leaking into his voice. “You’ve been marked by a wolf clan!”

The monstrous beast’s words are punctuated with the chilling sound of a wolf howl slicing through the bleak hours of night.

It’s a broken, mourning sound – brimming with pain and a longing so fierce you feel it in your own heart. The howl is soon accompanied by more. Seven more wolves join the call, an aching fear conveyed in their fragmented sound. They’re in pain; but it is not their own.

They’ve heard your plea.

They had not been far. They had been following your train since dusk had settled. Knowing the vampire was still on the loose, Minho and Chan had tracked it to the eastern border that afternoon and carefully swept through the rest of the territory for signs of the beast. Yet, they had still come up empty.

Hyunjin and Han had immediately picked up the hints of your scent. With the rest of their mates not far behind, the wolves had not been far behind when the red string binding your fates had come alive.

Intense panic is the first to strike them. Filtering with speed through their bodies, the anxiety is laced with the grip of terror. It surges through them with an aching pulse, stronger than anything they’ve felt from you. Not long after, the frantic tugging of the bond yanks furiously at their chests.

Hyunjin nearly collapses on his feet. Knees weak, his chest aches at the weight of your fear. It’s terrifying, and the dark coated wolf is suddenly struck with a sickening grief. His fur shakes when Hyunjin waves his head to force away the feeling. It is too soon to mourn you, and Hyunjin will not let the ninth piece of their bond be taken so easily.

It’s blinding. The immense grip of pure despair grips them tight, each of your panic-laced emotions being sent down the bond. Whining out of desperation, Felix crumples into Changbin. Weak to the strength of your fear, he barely pulls himself back onto his feet. He cannot let himself fall now. Changbin buries his nose into the younger’s muzzle, breathing in the scent of his partner and hoping the smell, despite the souring tinge, will help him maintain his balance.

Chan is the one whose head knocks back into the first despairing howl, the ache of your pain fueling the mournful sound.

With the weight of the world on his shoulders, Chan feels weaker than he’s ever been. The aching sound leaves his chest with a cry of overflowing pain. In his many years, he swears he’s never felt such a surge of grief – not even when Seungmin had gotten caught in a bear trap years ago. Even then, he’d been assured that he could protect his partner - could care for him and nurse him to health.

Now, with the overwhelming grip of panic in his chest, Chan fears he may lose you before he's even had the chance to love you.

It all happens in a single moment. The fear knocks into them - Chan howls, and then all eight of the wolves are moving. Taking off with a blinding speed, they race through the forest with the traces of your scent fresh in their minds. Only you and your desperate plea for help present in their minds, they push themselves quicker.

Seven baying sounds echo into the night not long after their leaders.

In a combined harmony, the werewolves convey their mournful rage. Despite the fear, the sound is brimming with overwhelming anger, for a member of the wolf pack has been threatened; a notion that grounds for a revenge even the High King of Hell himself, could not prevent.

The pack leader swears he’s never been this scared. Your desperate plea for help has struck him so deeply, he fears it will be the last thing he ever feels from your end of the string that connects you. The eldest can barely manage a weak tug on your bond as he pants in exertion, praying it can provide you some reassurance; they’re coming, it says - just wait a moment longer, they’re coming.

While the howling echo was meant to be a notion of fear for its prey, you can only exhale a sigh of relief. They’ve heard you, it reassures, they’ve heard you and they’re on their way.

The vampire steps away for a second, seeming to filter through his options. He takes a glance at the trees behind him and then back at your frightened form, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to decide what to do. You’ve been marked by this wolf pack – their scents are strong on your form, intertwining under the sweetness of your own. If he harms you now, he is certain to face the wrath of the pack. Even if he leaves the borders of their territory, they are sure to hunt him down for laying a hand on someone they've marked. No mating mark may lay on your skin, but you are quite clearly bound to this wolf pack – scar visible, or not.

He doesn’t have time to make a decision.

With the sound of your weeping guiding the werewolves to your location, the vampire suddenly has no time to escape. He turns fruitlessly to locate the easiest method of exiting the bounds of their territory, hair whipping into his face.

Your chest aches with the dregs of terror, body so desperately weak from the magic you had expelled. Sagging into the trunk behind you and adrenaline waning, the burn of your wounds begin to settle. Fear still lodged into your mind and body still curled upon itself, you do not see the vampire attempt to run.

You only hear the furious snarl of a wolf’s growl and the pounding of feet on the earth.

The roaring of panic in your ears is suddenly replaced by the gnashing of teeth and sharp howls of anger. Branches snap and claws scratch against the dirt. Rustling of various footsteps and the sound of sharpened incisions snapping against flesh fill your senses as the wolves descend upon you and the vampire. Clutching your ears tightly with bloodied fingers, you curl tighter on yourself.

You don’t want to watch.

You know the wolves are strong, but you fear having to see the vampire harm them.

Whimpering with tears still slowly dripping down your skin, you do not see the towering, angry form of Chan’s silver wolf break into the clearing. Nor do you see Minho’s enraged snarl as he bursts forth from behind his pack leader. His teeth drip with saliva as he lunges for the vampire. Eyes locked on the beast, he barely manages a glimpse at your terrified form, bleeding and curled tightly on itself against a tree trunk. The sight fuels his protective anger, and his jaws clasp tightly upon the vampire with a furious sound.

Jisung is the first of the wolves who’s anger wanes at the sight of your crumpled form.

Strewn against the trunk of a fallen pine tree, you’ve curled upon yourself and clutched your ears tight. Blood drips from your fingers, as if you’ve tried to ebb the flow of blood from the scrapes and scratches that litter your exposed skin. The scent of terror clings to your form, and Jisung nearly gags on the acrid taste.

Yet underneath the fear, Jisung still smells the sweet, gentle honeyed scent that usually clings to your body. He can still imagine the excited smile that stretched across your cheeks after your first chase, and oh, seven hells - does Jisung want to see that smile again.

Breaking through the line of his furious partners, Jisung is the first to descend on your trembling form.

Transforming to bare skin, Jisung collapses to his knees at your side. Watery eyes wide, his hands hover over your skin - afraid to frighten you with his touch. Reaching out, with his heart still pounding and anxiety a sickening lump in his throat, Jisung pulls gently at the red string binding you together. His side pulses with waves of comfort, praying the warmth will remind you of his presence.

“Shh, Darling,” his teary voice murmurs so quietly. He’s dropped low, whispering the words into your ear, so different from when Hyunjin had muttered salacious teases. “S’alright, Angel - s’just me, s’Hannie.”

When your fearful eyes finally pry open, wet from salty tears and pupils blown wide, Jisung feels his heart clench in his chest. Seemingly separated from the chaos just behind him, Jisung can only see your sweet form – only feel the stuttered beats of surprise and grateful pulses from your bond.

“Sungie?”

At the watery, broken cry of his name, Jisung cannot hold back. Chest aching, he pulls you into his body. Both of your bodies are trembling, and Jisung finally allows the salty tears to fall onto his round cheeks. Weeping softly as he feels your shaking arms wrap tightly around his back, he clutches you tight. You respond with the same fervor, as if you fear that in the next moment, he’ll be torn from you.

“Yeah, Baby - s’me, you’re okay,” his weeping voice murmurs, words spoken directly into the skin of your neck. His reassurances seem to help as you sag into his arms, finally succumbing to the adrenaline rush. “We’re here, s’fine - you’re safe.”

From behind Jisung, Changbin is not far behind Minho, and he snarls as he grasps hold of one of the beast's legs. The vampire cries out, but they are not swayed. The werewolves are fueled by the protective rage that swells through their bond. You are terrified and in danger, and they go to the ends of the Earth to ensure your safety.

Hyunjin is the next to descend on the vampire, teeth sharp as they pierce skin. Blood fills his mouth, but Hyunjin is used to the feeling. His head is split between approaching you and swaddling you in his arms, aching to reassure you, and the brimming rage that seizes him tight. But with how you clutch to Jisung, eyes squeezed shut and attempting to push out the sounds of a fight, Hyunjin knows he must expel the traces of anger before approaching you.

He will not scare you like this.

Tugging sharply on the vampire, Minho and Changbin understand the message and begin to drag the beast away. He kicks and screams, trying desperately to get away from the grip of the wolves, but his attempts are fruitless. And when Seungmin lunges forward, rage finally overflowing upon sight of your terrified form, he cannot help the way his teeth sink into the vampire's neck, silencing the beast once and for all with a sickening crack.

Felix is already at your side before the sounds can reach your ears. Gentle hands settling over your ears, the blonde keeps the gruesome cacophony of noise from reaching you. His hands are trembling, but he keeps them steady enough to maintain coverage. Felix’s eyes are teary, salty tracks covering his cheeks as he does so. Nonetheless, the touch of your warm skin under his hands seems to reassure him and reduce the shaking.

He hums under his breath, pushing his chest into your back and hoping that the sound of his voice will drown out the rest.

When the four wolves drag away the body, not wanting you to see the horrors of death, Chan finally steps forward.

He trusts his mates to take care of the vampire. Chan knows he does not have to worry about the rage that still simmers in his chest, and though he aches to give the beast a beating of his own, Chan knows there are more important matters at hand.

When Chan finally shifts from his wolfish form, silver fur giving way to soft skin and worried eyes, he’s already on you.

“Baby!” he cries, a sob of his own swelling in his chest. Despite all the strength he upheld as pack leader, Chan finally succumbs to the worry and the fear that gripped him so tight. He collapses at your side, bond crying out with reassurance and sweetly attempting to comfort you. “Baby - oh fuck, Angel.”

Over the lump in his throat, Chan leans forward, hands hovering over your skin. He’s scared to touch you. Now in front of you for the first time as a human, with terror still seizing your mind, Chan doesn’t want to scare you. His wolf whines pitifully, longing to pull you into him, but Chan waits.

When you feel the sweet hum of his connection call out, your eyes crack open and pitifully peer at him from the depths of Jisung’s chest. The dregs of fear still pulsing through you, you cannot stop the trembles that still rake through you.

“Chan?”

Felix has never heard such a mournful whimper pull from his Alpha’s chest.

Finally giving into the longing ache, Chan pulls you into him with a gasping cry. Jisung loosens his grip, allowing his Alpha the chance to feel your skin against his. Chan lets the fear escape his chest with a weeping sob, his own tears burning at his eyes. With your skin pressed against his bare chest, Chan knows you’re safe. The heat of your body is a pleasant burn he never wants to extinguish.

Your first glimpse of the pack’s Alpha is halted as he draws you into his chest with muscular arms. You cannot be upset about the motion, feeling the shake of your limbs already beginning to settle as his bare skin presses against yours. The pack leader openly sobs out a saddened sound, pulling you tightly into him with your bond flaring strongly.

Chan is beautiful.

Your weary eyes barely glimpse full lips and dark eyes as they tiredly fall closed, but you know Chan is utterly gorgeous. There's a faint red scar across the bridge of nose, crossing across his cheeks, but the strength that it implies only makes him more gorgeous. With how brightly your chest swells with affection, quickly replacing the fear, you knew you would find yourself entrapped by his beauty soon enough.

Exhaling a shaky sound, you try to push yourself closer with weak limbs. Chan feels you shift and tugs you closer with a whimper, nose pressing into your hair as a tremble of his own shakes through him. He inhales deeply, savoring the honeyed glimpse of your scent beneath the acrid taste of panic.

“You caught me,” you tiredly whimper into his chest, collapsing with the last glimpses of adrenaline finally leaving you.

From behind you, you feel more forms push closer.

Felix sobs out a weepy sound, and you find yourself saddened that you don’t have the energy to send a wave of comfort to him. His warm skin presses against your side, pushing you closer to Chan as another form piles into your sweet embrace. You vaguely recognize Jeongin’s sweet aura as he clutches you from your other side. The youngest is crying, tears wetting the skin of your neck from where he pushes his head into the crevice beneath your jaw, but you don’t care.

You can sense that Seungmin is not far behind. Unable to reach you from the depths of the clutches of his older partners, you manage to reach out a hand through the mess of tangled limbs. Seungmin grasps hold of the appendage with a tight grip, squeezing happily as he pushes his face into Jeongin’s neck.

It’s not long before the rest of the pack descends on your pile. Clutching each other in a warm, muddled clutter of relieved bodies, the remaining wolves pull each other tight. The fear that previously radiated through the bond slowly seeps away to reveal sweet relief and comfort.

Chan weeps a laugh at your words, chest shaking with the combination of it and a sob. His next words are spoken into your hair, lips pressing a short kiss to the threads with warmth radiating from his mouth.

“Yeah, we caught ya, Pretty,”

When spring has finally settled in the forest, Lupin flowers blooming in bright hues of lavender and cornflower blue, you decide it’s finally time. Unbeknownst to you, the first few days of spring mark a shift between the werewolves. You can’t sense it, not with your human ability to smell.

Mating season has begun.

It keeps the werewolves high strung. The urge to incorporate you into the pack is stronger than ever. Every flash of your skin has them panting, and every hint of your arousal has their mouth watering.

Hyunjin had been teasing you for weeks, playfully poking at you and trying to incite you into a final challenge. He managed to rope some of the others into his taunts, keeping the excitement of the chase fresh in your mind.

Not long after you had settled into their lives, Felix had been the one to mention the mating mark. You had been eyeing the faded blush-colored scar with warmth in your gaze. Analyzing the teeth marks and attempting to identify which scars were the mark of incisors, you vaguely wonder whose teeth had left the mark.

Felix’s lips had pulled into a wide grin when he noticed, pulling you closer to his bare chest with a laugh. His skin was warm against yours, and despite being subjected to their exposed skin in the weeks past, the notion of Felix's smooth, freckled skin still made you dizzy. With heat in your cheeks and ears burning, you buried your bashful look into the muscle of his chest in an attempt to hide from his prying eyes.

“Baby!” he laughed, chest rumbling with the sound, “s’nothing to be embarrassed about. You can ask if you want.”

From across the room, Hyunjin lifted his head from where it rested against the back of the couch. Jeongin, in between his legs - had too, raised his own head with interest in the conversation.

“Yeah, Pretty – you can ask Chan-hyung to give you a mark of your own too,” the long-haired man mirthfully teased. Jeongin giggled in Hyunjin’s arms, his teeth shining when a grin stretched across his lips. The youngest’s own mark seemed to glimmer in the light when his loose shirt shifted across his clavicle.

Your eyes followed the trail of teeth on Jeongin’s skin, spotting a second flash of teeth not far from the first. When Hyunjin titled his head, allowing his hair to fall away from his skin, you caught sight of the largest mark imprinted in the flesh to the side of his throat. Two more rosy rows of teeth rested in the smoothness of his skin aside the first.

You begin to wonder how many of these bite marks littered each of the wolves.

Pulling your eyes from the ridges of Felix’s chest, you raised them to meet the teasing eyes of Hyunjin. “Do you all have them? The bite marks, I mean.”

Hyunjin hums in response, a spark flickering across his gaze. His arms wind tighter across Jeongin’s chest at the reminder of how his partners have sunk their teeth into his skin. Face warming with the heat of the memory, his lids flutter with an indecent look.

“They’re mating marks,” Changbin cuts in, beside Hyunjin. His eyes were focused on the notebook in his hands, but he was clearly listening to your conversation. His dark eyes look up from the worn leather for a moment, catching yours with something similar to Hyunjin’s own arousal glimmering in the depths.

“Mating marks?” Your tongue rolls carefully over the words. Spoken silently to yourself, your mind rolls with the implication.

Felix’s chest rumbles with another answering hum. From where you lay on the floor beneath the couch, you feel something hot flash through the bond in a quick moment. It’s so fast you cannot tell from whom it originated.

Minho is the next to fill in the blanks. Jisung is pressed tightly to his side, Seungmin not far, their eyes drawn to the television where they’re engaged in a fierce battle of Mario Kart.

“When the bond is accepted and courting finishes, mating marks seal the connection between bonded packs. They lay claim over each other – everyone is bound to each other through ‘em.”

A flush of heat fills your stomach.

Something indecent rolls through your chest and you feel your skin becoming littered with pleasant goosebumps. You don’t know why the thought is so enticing. The thought of teeth pressing into your skin, claiming you once and for all, is something that makes your chest ache and your thighs rub together.

Attempting to hide your interest, you look back into Felix’s chest, but your spiked acknowledgment is not missed by the others. If your bashful look doesn't give it away, the distant hum of arousal from the bond certainly does. New to the red string intertwining you with the wolves, you’re unable to stop the stronger waves of emotion from filtering through.

Nonetheless, they wouldn’t need the bond to know you have become interested in the marks. The sweet, honeyed scent of arousal permeating the air and the twinge of your uncontrolled pheromones are evidence enough.

Minho’s lips raise into a smirk.

Catching the enticing scent, the wolf inside him howls with a challenge.

“Oh,” his words drip with salacious undertones. “Are you interested, Pretty?”

Your eyes dart up to meet him. Swallowing once, you attempt to speak around the lump that has risen in your throat. Suddenly feeling so small under his lowered, teasing eyes, you find yourself unable to respond.

“Hm, I think she is, Hyung,” Jisung’s voice responds. He’s dropped his controller, looking away from the shining lights of the television at the sweet waves of your scent. His eyes have darkened, dilated pupils beginning to swell.

Hyunjin soon joins the attack, leaning forward with Jeongin still clutched to his chest.

“Yeah, I knew it. You want a mark of your own, Pretty Girl?”

You withhold a whimper into Felix’s chest, but the silver blonde hears it anyway. His own shiver of arousal shaking through him, Felix clutches you tighter. He feels something stir in his gut, and the sharp sting of incisors press against his gums as he resists leaning forward to scrape the fangs across your flesh.

When Chan steps through the doorway to the living room, the air is thick with the scent of arousal.

Heart thumping and dominance surging, the pack leader hums to grab your attention. His eyes fall to your body, clutched tightly in Felix’s arms with your eyes wide and pulse racing.

“S’going on in here?”

Tension broken, eyes are immediately drawn to the Alpha. The air still simmers with pulses of lust, and Chan feels as though it will soon begin to drown him if he doesn’t do something soon.

Minho is quick to respond, taking charge as second-in-command. “Angel was just telling us how much she wants a mating mark, Chan.”

The pack leader’s aura flushes.

Power radiates through the room, and the wolves feel Chan’s own surprised flood of dominance filter into the atmosphere. They’re under his command, tense and muscles ready to spring onto you at their Alpha’s command.

“S’that so, Pretty Baby?”

You can’t look at him. Chan’s aura overflows with an assertive wave of power. He commands the room, and you fear if you meet his eyes, you’ll give in without the thrill of the chase. However, you do find yourself nodding into Felix's warm chest, making your consent well known.

Not responding, Chan hums sweetly. With darkened irises and the pleasant hum of desire in his veins, Chan can feel his teeth push against his gums. His inner wolf howls to lay claim on you now, with your consent made apparent, all that’s left is to sink his teeth into your skin.

But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

Chan is quick to propose a final chase.

One last race through the woods. With the mating mark made clear, the first to catch you can be the first to have you – of course, right after the Alpha lays claim. Chan will always get priority, even if he is not the one to capture you first. Though he severely doubts he won’t be.

Everything happens so quickly.

Felix pushes you gently off his chest, pulling you to your feet and guiding you towards your room. Well, you suppose it’s actually Chan’s room, but the leader has made it clear you have a place in it as much as he does. With a delicate command to prepare yourself, your heart begins to race with the familiar thrill of adrenaline - the good kind.

You burrow through the mess of clothing in your drawers, a smirk pulls on the edges of your lips when you find what you’re looking for. After the incident with the vampire, Chan and the others had never seen your last gift. You had intended for that night to go so much differently, but you suppose now is as good of a time as any to present the pale pink lace of the lingerie.

Tiny, rosy pink daisies litter the sheer fabric, intertwining with the blush and darkened hues of roses. Dark green stems connect the flowers, tastefully just covering the most indecent of places. The faint pink lace barely covers anything, and it’s by far the most lewd thing you’ve ever bought, let alone worn.

When you slide it on, some sense of pride inflates your chest. It’s a fleeting feeling, one you find you don’t often experience in reference to your own body, but you thrive under its wave. It feels nice to admire your own skin and size for once, and you remind yourself to do it more often. Learning to love yourself is a hard road, but you hope you’ll learn to love your own skin soon.

Choosing to forgo the complications of too much clothing, you slip on one of the boys’ oversize shirts. You can’t tell whose it is, as even their shirts run sizes too large so that they can be cut and loose, but the scents on it are familiar, as always. Hyunjin wore it last, that you can tell, and you hope the notion of nothing but lingerie beneath it will drive him mad.

You honestly hope you’ll be caught quickly. Even despite the arousal and implication of mating marks, running with nothing but a large t-shirt is sure to cause your thighs some chafing. However, you cannot bring yourself to put anything else on, knowing the sentiment will make the chase more enticing.

When you reenter the living room, all eight of the werewolves are standing. Murmuring amongst themselves, desire roaring in their stomachs, they turn to look at you when you enter the room.

“Oh fuck,” Changbin murmurs, mouth going dry at the sight. He has to readjust his pants to hide the growing problem between his thighs. Cursing under his breath, running with a boner is sure to be a pain.

“Hm, our little tease, isn’t she?” Minho coos, voice dripping with filthy undertones.

Hyunjin nearly purrs at the expanse of your bare legs. Eyes scanning every inch of your exposed flesh, he feels his spine shake with a familiar arousal.

“You wearing anything under that, Pretty?”

Despite the weight of their dominating auras, you manage a hum in response to Hyunjin. “Mhm! It’s the present Binnie asked for.”

Changbin snarls at your words, chest vibrating as he feels another bolt of heat twist his gut. Imaging the pretty pink lace underneath the darkness of your shirt, he and Hyunjin know exactly of the gift you speak of. Felix too, rumbles pleasantly at the reminder of your meeting so long ago.

“Present?” Jisung murmurs in question.

Changbin hums his gruff, deep response. “You remember her last ‘gift’? I asked her to wear something pink next time - Chan-hyung’s favorite and all.”

The pack leader goes weak in the knees with a lusty groan. His eyes close and his head knocks back at his lover’s words. The reminder of the tiny pair of panties clutched in his fist, now imagining them pink and stained with your arousal, has his mind finally drowning a ferocious desire.

“Oh Baby, you’ve done it now,” Chan’s deepened tone coos. When his eyes open, brown hair falling across his forehead and highlighting the red scar across his nose, there’s a fire burning brightly in the depths. “You sure you want this? Once we start, I won’t be able to stop myself, Sweetheart – not now that I know what’s under that pretty dress.”

Your nod is immediate. You’ve never been more sure of anything. These eight wolves are yours now, just as much as you are theirs. Chest thumping, Chan purrs a hum in response.

“Don’t make it too easy then, Pretty,” Chan murmurs, nose grazing your skin as he leans in close. “Gonna ruin you when I catch you - gotta’ savor our prize right?”

And the final chase begins.

They have given you a head start. Just two minutes, but it’s enough time to clear some distance between you. They aren’t wolves this time – just humans, but supernatural humans with enhanced senses and incredible speed and strength. They’ll still be able to catch up quickly.

You know there’s not much you can do when it comes to hiding this time. With how strong your arousal thrums between your thighs, there’s no chance they won’t be able to seek you out by scent alone.

Leaping over a fallen branch, you pant heavily with a wide grin on your face. Probably looking a little insane as you race through the woods with a manic smile, clad in nothing but a black shirt and lingerie beneath it, you laugh freely into the spring air.

You don't know how much distance you’ve put between you and the pack house, unable to keep track of time since Chan had started the chase. Regardless, you continue pushing your calves to run through the trees with your chest sizzling with the familiar buzz of adrenaline.

Only a few moments later, you hear excited hoots and shouts fill the air.

Your two minutes are up.

Excitement bursting again, you force yourself faster. You know it won’t be long before they catch up, but you want to give them a chase worthy of being called the last.

Distantly, you feel one of them tug on the bond, chest being pulled in their direction, but you ignore it. Dirty tricks didn't work before, and they wouldn’t now. Allowing a smirk to pull at your lips, you continued to race, kicking up dirt from the earthen ground.

You feel him as soon as he breaks through the tree line at your back. Minho, second-in-command, was one of the fastest of the wolves in their human forms. Now, driven mad by you, he has a mission in mind as he pursues your racing form.

You don’t have to turn to know he’s behind you.

He’s closing on your fast, his strides longer than yours and heart pumping just as quick. You barely have the conscious mind to consider your options, but vaguely you wonder if the same trick will work twice. You can tell he’s a few steps in front of the others, so you’ll only have a moment’s chance if it’s to work.

As Minho descends on you, breath in your throat as his hand reaches out, you lunge to the side again. Your heart leaps, skipping a pulse as Minho skids on his feet. He barely manages to catch himself before he falls, cursing loudly at your cheap trick.

“Hah! I can’t believe you fell for it again!”

A growl loosens from Minho’s chest, and he’s running after you again.

Escaping Minho has allowed you a moment to maintain the distance between the boys, though it’s still not much. They’re still hot at your heels, fueled by carnal desire and thoughts of your skin beneath their hands. Heat still sizzles between your thighs, and you feel the lining of your panties dampen at the sound that escapes Minho’s chest.

Distantly, you hear another let out a groaning sound, as if they smell the arousal slowly leaking from between your thighs. The thought makes you lightheaded.

Another laugh leaving your lips, you duck under a low hanging branch, the boys hot at your heels. Confident in your lead, you allow yourself to miss the missing aura that is missing behind you. With your mind focused on keeping ahead of the werewolves, you’ve missed an alarmingly crucial clue: there are only seven auras behind you.

You're smart. Hyunjin had Minho had both conveyed this when they returned from their individual chases. Able to outmaneuver them both, they were impressed by your ingenuity.

Yet, even despite your intelligence, you could not outsmart Chan.

Instead of joining his pack, pushing you from behind as the others had, Chan burned with the passion that would guarantee his success; and he chose another route.

You don’t see him coming.

Racing through the pines, his arms pumping and veins fueled with a primal lust, Chan had taken off in the other direction. Your scent clinging to his senses, he swears he can already taste the sweet arousal that leaks into your panties. A smirk tugging at his lips, Chan races for you head on.

He pursues you from the front, rather than behind. Seeming to know exactly what routes you would take through the forest, he knew precisely where he could cut you off.

When his panting, muscular form breaks through the trees in front of you, your slam to a stop on your feet. Skidding an inch, you pant with widened, surprised eyes. Chan stands in front of you, pupils blown and dark, sweat dripping across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose, smearing along the red scar.

His muscular biceps bulge in his tight, black shirt, and your mouth waters at the sight. You only have half a moment to take him in before his smirk deepens and he pushes off the balls of his feet, lunging for you. A growl pulls from deep within his chest and you squeal as you try to dodge his strong hands.

Your efforts are futile. Even as you attempt to evade his grip, twisting as you make for the forest, Chan’s already moving - quicker and stronger than you. Of course, if you had half a mind to focus on it, the thought of his superior size and strength would drive you wild, but you didn’t have the chance.

“Chan!” you squeal, squirming as you attempt to wiggle out of his grip, wanting to continue the chase and feel the adrenaline pumping through you. The Alpha groans deeply when his name falls from your lips, already imagining the sound twisted into gasps of pleasure. Head knocking back, Chan’s muscles bulge as he wraps you in his grasp.

Your skin hot against his, Chan moans out a sweet sound that has your stomach turning. His biceps flex under your squirming, and it’s so enticing to feel how he manhandles you into his chest. One strong hand manages to grasp both your wrists, pulling them behind your back as he tugs you close. Your back against his front, hands in his grip, Chan hums pleasantly with you now trapped in his hold.

“Yeah, s’it, Pretty Baby – say my name.”

Your knees weaken.

Unable to move in Chan’s tight grip, you’re left defenseless to the seven wolves that soon descend.

Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin is the next to capture you. The taller man’s figure leans over yours with a daunting smirk, his eyes shining with carnality. His chest pushing against your front, Hyunjin’s head leans over yours and you’re forced to look up at him when his hand reaches out. Thin fingers expanding over your throat, Hyunjin applies a little pressure to your neck, exhaling a groaning sound when you whimper.

“Dirty girl,” he purrs, fingers tightening across your throat in a pleasant pressure that makes your head spin. Hyunjin’s grin is wild as he does so, finding the sounds you let out make his chest swell with pride. “I told you I’d catch you next time, didn’t I?”

You think you might leak through your pretty pink underwear. Legs trembling and head turning, eyes barely able to keep hold of Hyunjin’s lusty ones, you barely realize when the others join the fun.

Minho, obviously holding a little grudge from missing you twice, is at your right. His hands are hot to the touch. Chan laughs a cocky chuckle when his second-in-command immediately drops to his knees. Minho rolls his eyes, lips already leaning forward to press into the skin of the inside of your knee. When you squirm, legs visibly shaking at the touch of Minho’s soft, full lips on your bare skin, his hand drifts higher. Gripping your thigh tight in his big hand, he murmurs his next words directly into the skin of your thigh.

“Stop squirming, Angel.”

You whine again, head knocking back with a keen. Going limp in their hold, your head rests against Chan’s collarbone. The pack leader smirks in victory. He loves watching the bashful look on your face twist into something darker.

“Hannie,” Minho commands, not looking away from his place on his knees, “Come help me, will you?”

Jisung does not hesitate. Taking your other side, his hand slides around your waist to squeeze you once. Then, with a salacious grin at the dripping honey smell of your arousal, his hands drop. Sliding pleasantly down your stomach in between you and Hyunjin - of course, taking a moment to run gently over the skin of Hyunjin’s stomach - Jisung’s hands slide beneath the fabric of your shirt.

This time, Jisung lets out an obscene sound when the tips of his fingers graze the soft lace wrapped around your hips.

“Fuck, Baby,” he murmurs with a whining sound. Fingers drift, lifting the hem of your shirt higher, allowing Minho a glimpse of the fabric that lay beneath. He pushes closer, face lifting until his head is level with your hips, which are pushed against Hyunjin’s. The taller man groans when Minho’s hand comes up, cock twitching when his lover’s fingers toy with the bulge in his pants. When he leans away a little, leaving space for Minho to dive between, only your chest remains pressed against Hyunjin.

Before Jisung has a moment to explore further, Seungmin reaches from behind, his fingers lightning quick as they rip your shirt upwards. Eight sounds of approval sound out when the material is lifted above your chest, allowing them a first look at the pretty pink lingerie you’ve chosen.

Chan, however, does not have the best angle to see the sweet panties you’ve chosen for him with Seungmin lifting the shirt in front of his face. With a disgruntled sound, his eyes lift to Hyunjin’s, grinding his hips forward into your backside as he does so. You keen, and Hyunjin smiles.

“Pretty Boy, keep her hands out of the way f’me.”

Then, Chan releases his grip on your wrists and pushes them around to your front, where Hyunjin’s waiting grasp wraps securely around them once more. Now in Hyunjin’s hold, Chan has both hands free, and he doesn’t waste a second. Exchanging a look with Seungmin, Chan’s hands lift to grasp both sides of the color of your shirt. Biceps flexing, the pack leader grips the material tight and then tears it down the middle.

His display of strength has you lightheaded.

Now exposed, the eight can admire the sweet little bra that adorns your chest. Tits practically spilling from the material, Chan hums pleasantly, his eyes going hazy. By now, he feels the growing need to release his dick from his pants, unable to take the throbbing against the tight material. Changbin shares the sentiment, the three remaining men finding the means to occupy themselves with each other. Felix is already under Changbin’s grip, his eyes having trouble drifting back and forth from you and his dark haired partner.

Chan growls pleasantly at the sight of the pink lingerie, one of his hands sliding around to join Jisung in toying with the hem of the rosy panties. Minho’s lips are on your inner thigh, and he sucks in a heated breath when he catches a taste of your arousal on his tongue. Fingers inch closer, his forefingers rubbing gently across the thin material that separates him from your slit. Rubbing a teasing circle, your head knocks back again.

Yeah, you manage to think - they’re definitely stained now.

“Oh, fuck me,” Chan murmurs, voice dripping with honey. “Look s’good in pink, Angel.”

Minho hums in agreement, teeth skimming across your thigh. It trembles under the glimpse of his sharp incisors, and Minho mirthfully laughs. He knows exactly where he wants to put his mark. It’s a favorite of his, apparently, if the mating marks on Jisung, Hyunjin and Felix’s thighs have anything to say.

“Better take a deep breath, Pretty,” Hyunjin murmurs directly into your ear, lips grazing the shell. “M’gonna fuck ya stupid when Chan’s done with you.”

Chan laughs when you whine, and when Hyunjin’s hand slides away from your throat, they’re quickly replaced with the feeling of Chan’s teeth scraping across the skin. You squirm under him, feeling both so heavy and so light at the same time. You swear the combined touch from them will kill you.

Felix seems to think similarly, a whine of his own skipping from his lips when Jeongin’s hand slides beneath the button of his jeans. The youngest smirks, obviously enjoying having Felix weak under his touch. However, he’s interrupted when Changbin slides his own hand down the younger’s back, making Jeongin shiver. You desperately want to open your eyes - to look at the blonde when he makes such pretty sounds, but you’re prevented when Chan playfully nibbles on the skin of your throat. They’ll have their turn with you soon.

“Watch her, Lixie,” Changbin murmurs. Your skin seems to heat even hotter, and you feel as though you’ll pass out under their eyes. “She’ll be falling apart on Chan’s cock soon, don’t ya wanna’ watch?”

The sentiment of the pack Alpha’s teeth against you strikes with a heated stir of your stomach: Chan’s going to claim you, just as the rest of them will. And though you don’t have the teeth to leave a permanent mark of your own, you are sure you’ll leave plenty of fading ones on their skin too.

They’re yours now, just as much as you are theirs.

You lean back into Chan with eyes closing out of ecstasy, despite only being teased so far. The leader smirks and you feel it on your throat. Jisung finally grows tired of toying with the fabric between his fingers and finally peels them away from your hips, giving way for Minho's lips to explore new territory. Chan feels his dick twitch when Minho lets out a pleased groan at your taste, finally able to suck you into his mouth as he wants.

“Yeah, you like that, Baby?” Chan hums, teeth scraping over your skin, finding the place where he wants to sink them beneath the flesh. It won’t hurt, he knows. Rather, he thinks you’ll quite like the rush of pleasure that comes from a werewolf’s bite. “Get ready, Pretty - I caught ya,’ and m’not gonna be gentle.”

Teeth sharpening and incisors sliding forward, Chan angles his head so that his mating mark will be candid for all to see.

“You're ours now.”

His teeth sink in.

bonus:

reader, sitting with the dewdrops at dawn!reader: ...

reader: so,,, demons?

dewdrops at dawn!reader, nodding: werewolves?

reader, also nodding: ...

dewdrops at dawn!reader: ...

reader: are we monster fuckers?

a/n: listen,,, I like skz, okay? this is totally not like 20k words written in a daze of hard hours, I swear.

ngl tho sometime when I was writing this fic I was like omfg this is so ‘2013 wattpad girl’ of me,,, like sometimes I’d write a sentence and try not to think about the cringy werewolf fics I used to read xD either way I really like the concept of the supernatural and wolf chan is always in the back of my brain so this is what followed that brain rot.

p.s!! did anyone catch the references to dewdrops at dawn? I had to connect the universes somehow xD I hope you guys enjoyed them <3

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acertainmoshke · 4 months

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New Intro Post!

(If you’re mostly a Doctor Who or Batman blog I probably followed you for my side blog @autisticstevenuniverse and you might be more interested in that one than here)

Including full details for all my WIPs was getting long, so I've decided to make an abridged version with links to full intros

Updated: 9/17/24

General tag list (ask to be +/- for any or all works): @ashirisu

Published work

7 Days for Fae: A low-stakes realistic middle grade story about an autistic girl learning to accommodate her own needs, making a new friend, and helping her aunt understand that having a nonbinary parent isn't that big a deal. MC is also physically disabled and her new friend is ADHD-coded.

Available now as a paperback from Amazon or Booshop.org, and in paperback or ebook form from Lulu.

In Progress

Cracks in the Stone: A steampunk high fantasy following a royal bastard prophesied to save the kingdom when all they really wanted was to have a normal life. Set in a kingdom with an entirely different gender system, MC is physically disabled, important side character is intellectually disabled. No one is white.

Word count: 16,075/150,000

Story intros: Legends of Halara series, book 2, book 3, book 4, book 5, book 6

Character intros: Ko'a, Nalki, Azja, Sunka, Lila

Tag list: @amielbjacobs @starsoughtfrost @rbbess110

Cold Iron: A dark urban fantasy set in the 50's about two adult changeling siblings on a quest to release from captivity the humans they replaced as infants. MC is autistic and both are trans.

Status: first draft done (85,039 words). Second draft in chapter 8

Current goal: have draft 2 done (typed up with narration smoothed, placeholders filled in, and details added) by the end of November

Character intros: Shaka, Kris, Maggie, Zuri, Cassie, Sparrow

Tag list: @stesierra @amielbjacobs @ettawritesnstudies @the-inkwell-variable

Title TBD (Cold Iron book 2): A dark urban fantasy set in the 80's following the same characters from the first book and their new found family in underground queer culture as they investigate the mysterious disappearances of changelings with no one to miss them, people the authorities won't look for.

Stage: Planning

Character intros: Shaka, Kris, Maggie, Cassie, Sparrow, Vick, Mal, Megan, Jun

Future/Hiatus Projects

To Die Among the Stars: A dystopian sci fi in which people no one is supposed to miss—the poor, mentally ill, outcasts, and inhuman—are quietly stolen away to experiment on. But each of those people left behind someone who cares, and they won't rest until they've unraveled the mystery and saved their families. All of the 5 POV characters are disabled and/or mentally ill, and 2 are trans. The group is also racially diverse.

Word count: 19,569/85,000

Emerald Outpost: A sci fi thriller following a team of spies sent on a nonsense mission as punishment, only to discover that they might be the only ones who can save their planet as well as their enemies'. MC is Jewish and bi, the rest of the main cast includes a gay Muslim man, lesbian Latina woman, aro ace Latino man, and Black bi trans woman.

Word count: 392/50,000

Dragonfly Wings: A middle grade fantasy about a changeling girl who is taken back to faerieland but finds she no longer knows how to stop masking as a human. MC is autistic-coded.

Falling Petals: A historical story covering 100 years and 4 generations in a family that loves each other but is living in a world they don't fit into in very different ways and find themselves hurting each other instead. Entire family is Jewish and all 4 MCs are autistic-coded (except for the last one who is able to realize she's explicitly autistic).

After the War: An urban high fantasy following a war between the human and elfen countries, as people struggle to return to a peaceful normal after 30 years of violence. Werewolves, vampires, and mers were unwillingly affected by a conflict that wasn't theirs. No one trusts each other. But they have to move on somehow. Basically everyone is physically disabled and traumatized.

#yes I include a lot of the diversity info because it's important for people to know they will see themselves/others in these stories #no I didn't include EVERY detail of diversity in these tiny blurbs #moshke writes #writeblr #writeblr intro

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sterlingarcher23 · 7 months

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It was the Zoomer....Him=her

Taking the wheel is an analogy often used in cases of DID - that's why this scene, this line is in that moment in which Max sits behind the wheel. (see down below)

Because it happened before:

The accurate moment is right after the zooming effect, even though Eleven uses both hands, not one - moments earlier in the scene when El pushes him away with one hand the first time it doesn't result in 00I flying through the one way mirror. That's why I replaced this from the original post that inspired this one ( source down below). Technically both psychic blasts are accurate to use, I guess depending on the pov of the character. I as pointed out before and do again in this post, Eleven isn't a name you can use for one specific character - nonetheless this is a clear parallel between Max and Vecna, putting Max in the same place as him (maybe we should call him Edward, Henry's evil twin/alter/variant)

Mirrors

And here the mirror shards are flipped - she is as much of a mirror to him, as he is to her.

That moment here, is also mirroring the same event that took place in the lab - when El "wished" for her other half to appear, and the lights go out (as if she absorbs the energy?). That's how Vecna knows what Max is doing.

Both are clearly visual reflections/mirrors of each other. When he nails Max to the wall, it must have been her who did it in 1979 as they show us them as mirrors by changing the align of the glass shards.

You know: Stop him-- Her.

The silver cat feeds...

And when One kills "he" consumes.

The imagery and dialog makes them equals but also sets them apart, mirrors them.

"And there upon a rainbow is the answer to a neverending story" - like exactly before they are thrown through something and nailed to the wall.

Lie vs untruth (lies are deceptive, not everything that's untrue is a lie, could be a mistake, misunderstanding)

I vs We (the egot vs the team)

00I vs 0II

And the event - it split "Eleven". In two ones. As indicated that Max is One and El too (You are One of the good Ones).

That's the only possible explanation. The girl...in the beginning, that turns around? It (probably) doesn't even look like we think she looks like. What if she actually has red hair - the most likely explanation is that it's perception fuckery, showing us different scenes, even flipped events, not just allude to potential timeline splits but to the perception of two different personalities of the same event. And it's obvious because the older El has a different blood stain on her gown than the two younger versions. (A bit like in Matrix there are different self images of the same person, a real one, the way you see yourself, the residual rest image and, the way others see you)

There's also a whole section I would have integrated here if possible about how Max and Vecna are mirrored in another aspect: it's about werewolves and vampires, like a blood feud, it's about gamers playing an Immortal Game of chess and it's about the "Owl", the wendigo.

Pronouns & Gender ambiguity...

The pronoun game between El and Owens is verbally alluding to this. As much as theres some trans coding with Henry/Edward/Vecna with the emasculation, the association with female black widows, Max is also trans coded. Similar to characters like George (Georgina) Kirrin from the Famous Five is been trans-coded since the very first TV-show from the 70s, almost openly in the 90s show in which a gender swap & confusion happened in a conversation. And George doesn't like it to be called by her birth name, only her father does it. I should write that post I wanted to do last year how media likes to play with gender identity, gender roles and also sexuality.

Remember when Mr Clarke introduced Max to the class? He calls her Maxine, gets corrected by Max and the boys realize the supposed boy is a girl. Like in the dialog with Owens. Who then continues "Stop her and the rest of them". Seriously? On surface level it's just a misunderstanding in a not so great dialog. Or is it done deliberately? To swap pronouns? Yes - so that him=her. Which makes "He" potentially "she".

Vecna also calls her Maxine. But she wants to be called Max. That's a deliberate choice made by someone: choosing a name. - In S4 when Jason wants to "go out" with Lucas, Erica mentions Max by name, that Jason is a step down - two things: 1) to Jason this must sound as if Max is a boy. 2) and Lucas is...gay? Or bisexual? Or pan? It's at least clearly coding. Especially in regards to Max.

Now, does this make Max a boy/transgender, even though there's a very specific graffiti in her mind: No. Because otherwise "There's more to life than stupid boys" wouldn't fit.

But it tells me that she's probably meant as "gender ambiguous", that her character is at least questioning gender roles and definitely been mistaken as a boy at times is important in her character arc. "He" is actually a "she".

Hence Brenner is using what I'd call a gender neutral He or "he" as referring to someone that isn't specified. He doesn't say Henry or uses any name, but "He" and One. And you can see how "She" is mistaken as "He" - by us. Most think that this clunky, almost amateurish exposition (which we didn't need as Vecna showed us and said what he does) isn't about "him" but about "her": Max.

And besides some gender ambiguity regarding Max, we had several instances of characters in the show mistake her for a boy aka he. That in itself is all you need to understand why this exposition about "One" was written as a dialog for Brenner who doesn't see these kids as humans, nor as male or female, hence the fact get only numbers, wear the same clothes, have the same haircut. Only as numbers. And that's why "One" isn't necessarily a "he".

Example: "Whosoever holds this hammer if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor." - 2014, Jane Foster took the hammer. "He" wasn't necessarily meant as "only male" but more gender neutral.

The use, in formal English, of he, him or his as a gender-neutral pronoun has traditionally been considered grammatically correct.

The pronoun he can be used to refer to an unspecified person, as in If you see someone in trouble, help him. (See Gender above).

Final words & additional thoughts

(And sorry for the repetitions in my posts) Max is One, as much as she's Eleven when together with El as the script points out because the Duffers do not call El "Eleven" all the time - they make a clear distinction between El and Eleven in the script. So, who is Eleven? It's a number not a name and the script making this distinction between El and Eleven, even indicates that Eleven and Max are interchangeable, like pronouns, through the window scene in which El says "This is Max" - so if "Eleven" is Max, then Max is "Eleven".

Also, in regards to mirrors, this window is like a one way mirror. From El's perspective, she sees herself when drawing Max, since she can't see beyond. For us, the audience, however this is a window through which we see El through Max. It's actually not even subtle.

Mirrors are also used in other instances, like the "pretty" moments but this deserves its own post.

castleclerics had an interesting thought:

But not her "twinner". El's alter. Her other half. The Zoomer. Not timelines, even though the event resulted in different timelines or alike that split them.

And these alters do look differently in her physical versions - that's what alters are: they are different. Different gender, ethnicity, age. Not only is it a setup for what will happen in 5, the fusion through consumption but an explanation for why it has to happen:

"Only by facing all ourselves, the good and the bad, can be become whole" - Bad, according to David Clarke's "Between medieval men" (a study about same sex relations from 2009) it has it's roots in an Middle English term: bæddel. Which means hermaphrodite. "Usually taken to be related to (an unattested Old English root of) Middle English badde (“wicked, wretched, bad”)" - this is likely just a coincidence - but we cannot rule out the possibility that the Duffers did stumble over the Wiktionary entry. - Doing your homework does help with writing fiction, I heard. - That sentence is important because El questions that what if she doesn't want to be whole. And Brenner replies "Then that is a choice. Your choice." And choice is important to her character, it's an integral part of her.

What's in the show is rarely coincidence - yes it happens, mistakes etc, sometimes the "curtains are fucking blue". I would however also argue with a Professor for media science who analyzed "John Adams" that most things in film/tv are deliberat and the Duffers give us yellow curtains in many cases as if they wanted to tell us...what you see are (mostly) no coincidences, I guess. These guys are said to be meticulous. So, actual patterns, repetitions of the same or similar message, seeming mistakes like changing elements as the inscription on a gravestone and a drawing on a piece of paper, dialogs, mirroring scenes etc. are no coincidence. It's fiction. Made up. There's bad fiction and good fiction, they all have however something in common: it's all "artificially" (it's in this word: art) created by their writers based on real life experiences and other fiction. It's not even that new (that's why you can compare it with other works of fiction even if it's not sure if that was an actual inspo) or revolutionary however can be something unique and great, if they don't fail, in the way it's done. - Max as a character is made this way by choice, that she's mistaken as a boy and showing signs of gender ambiguity and trans coding (such as Vecna himself for God sake), most definitely questioning gender roles which goes in a similar direction, is not a mistake but a deliberate choice that leads to the question: Who does Brenner talk about? - The answer is, yes, in parts about Vecna, but to see it as a pure expositional dialog is, as far as I see it, at best short sighted. It's about One. One of the good Ones. It's about Max.

Until you find something that feels like you...

....I mean, at a certain point you don't need imagination that there's more to this sentence. Like the script description "on her heart" - El's actual, physical heart is in Max's chest and El is the beat of this heart. Like I said: Max, Eleven, El....5+6=11.

(There's a whole debate why they changed Millie's height of about 5'3 or 5'4 to 5'6 on the Wiki page and it's amazing that not even there they see the simple math in it. Because there's math everywhere in the show. Like art.)

And Elfen Lied is an inspiration for Eleven. El is therefore Nyu - Max is Lucy/Kaede which means that Max could also have a different name and might be the daughter of someone we all know all to well. - They are alters. And in Stranger Things made physical reality in two different girls. And about taking the wheel...

"Dissociative Identity Disorder Alters Feel Like Being in a Car with Other People:

The car-driving analogy is common when talking about DID and the experience of alters. My therapist would often ask me to make sure I was the one "at the wheel," which can be difficult when you have alters fighting to take control. One person described having alters as all being together, riding in the same car, with each person taking turns driving. Another person described the experience of alters as feeling like being on a bus full of people; sometimes it's loud and scary, while other times it's quiet and calm. It's always an interesting experience."

Post that inspired this one:

#max mayfield #elmax #stranger things #el hopper #elmax nation #elmax is endgame #stranger things analysis #stranger things theory #eleven stranger things #max stranger things #henry creel

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monstrouslyobsessed · 10 months

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…tumblr can you go and soak yourself in a burning pit of hot sauce…i never even got notifs of any of the older asks i got…

so very sorry if you've been waiting for like two months on my answers;;; and here i was wondering how dead my inbox was last month…rude, tumblr, very rude. all the asks are under the cut!

just a quick note, to the super sweet asker who send in two very long asks v recently, ima answer them separately after this one, if thats okay!! <3

tw / tags: dirty confession, monster fucking, breeding mentions, implied noncon, brief pregnancy mentions, long post, beastfolk / beastfolks characters mentioned: lady hyena, the lioness, conservative lion, papa bull, duke, cerelos, father fox, velarius

I love Daddy Bull and Duke, (along with so many other of your works!), do you have any plans on doing a confrontation between the two bulls and the reader? My thirst is dryer than the Sahara for these two bulls. I need more content. I’m a desperate whore… 。・゜・(ノД`)・゜・。 —anonymous

hm i'm STILL chewing on how this saga should go tbf because it really could go any way!!! i might just bite the bullet and write au's of papa bull and duke saga, even if i feel a little weird making varying storyline au's of my characters.

it was just supposed to be a bull daddy enjoying his little human, how did duke end up there lol

I know everyone is dying over Baldur’s gate rn but have you heard of Lustful Desires on itch.io? I just got into it and I’m dying to talk about it. They literally let you have a poly relationship with 3 different werewolves it’s so good —@flameshadowwolf

i've never heard of it! ima have to check it out now, thanks for the rec <3

Sorry if you consider this a request, but I'm very interested about your OC's yandere MBTI types (from @ddarker-dreams), so if you feel like it, can you identify them in this system? —anonymous

i…ah, am kinda bad with these mbti things. idk if its because i'm older than most writers i know (hi lock my love!! hope you're doing fantastic!), but i guess i can make my best attempt…? i'll just pick a few characters and list them for ya. if you want more specific characters or want me to make an official post with expanded explation, lmk and i'll make my best attempt

here's the link for anyone who are interested

lady hyena: reverent, delusional(?), manipulative (?), lenient, rdml the lioness: reverent, aware, honest, and strict(?), rahs conservative lion: cruel, aware, honest, and strict, cahs papa bull: reverent, delusional, honest, and strict(?), rdhs duke: cruel(?), delusional, manipulative, and strict, cdms father fox: reverent, aware, honest, and lenient(ish), rahl valerius: reverent, delusional(?), manipulative, and lenient, rdml

that's just a few! and they're all beastfolks since they're more fresh in my mind, aha. i tried my best hhh

Thirst chat thought: Have you ever thought that Cerelos could just find a way to tie up his wife underneath him as a cock sleeve, gag her, and just walk around a bit for the day doing royal duties and stuff? The man already has a equine skirt he wears, so he can easily hide everything underneath… (Also I’d happily give this man a dozen babies because I am a simp for him 💕) —anonymous

i think i touched upon that at one point! i wanna say he did that during a large meeting, maybe with his darling magically gagged? lemme see if i can find that post…

found it! its super brief but still

well, now i wanna write that…that's one more to my long to-do list, aha.

also you're valid

I am a simple man all I desire is your happiness. Tis all. I noticed you were feeling sad lately and I thought man next time I have extra money I'll kofi MO but recently I acquired a small fortune and I was happy to find a way to repay you for the time my friends and I giggle and go horny over your works Re-Reading your works is payment enough ….but if you wish to repay me I wouldn't mind maybe a dilf monster vampire (kinda like what you did for wolf pack? but Victorian times) or sequel to snake movie star or sequel/prequel dragon But I would rather you do what you are passionate about! Share your creations with the world! Rejoice in your delights! —anonymous

hi i love you and i swear i answered this before

i did the snek boi just for you <3 i hope you (and your friends!!) enjoyed it! he's a difficult boi to get through but i had fun writing him and his weird camera hobby

link: SMILE FOR THE CAMERA

Also increase your kofi goal —anonymous

im…okay. i didn't really have a goal target in mind so i hope thats sufficient??? sdfkdfj

Which of the beast folk are most likely to mate with humans? Like what about big cat beastfolk? —anonymous

it'd be fangedfolk, since they're canine (dogs) and are most attracted to the humans'…hm , simplicity and openness, i suppose you could say? and possibly treefolk (primates). i based my beastfolks' basic common grounds with irl animals, as canines are pack animals and dogs are more emotionally connected to us. as for primates, humans have evolutionary connections, similar social intelligence, and the shared abilities to solve problems and such.

that said, while fangedfolk are the most likely to have a human "companion", they are also most likely to have a poly pack with their human. whiskeredfolk (feline) are probably in the top-middle of that list, if we were to have a most-to-least likely ranking, with toothedfolk (rodents) due to their prey/nervous natures and seafolks (aquatic) on how dangerous/rare they are to communicate with, at the very bottom. the reason why i feel the whiskeredfolk being in the top-middle is that they can be fairly arrogant and being independent, but adores the complete attention their human can give them and how easily they are to manipulate.

that said, this is extremely generalized list, since the list is not really factoring in specific sub-groups under these categories, such as lions being social animals and are more likely to acquire a human lover, cheetahs more likely to need a service human pet to help with their anxieties, maned wolf being solitary type, etc. and other facets, like countries/areas, cultures, when/which eras, political affiliations, etc.

hope this answers your question, love!

Hello, I've been binging your Masterlist and I just want to say your OCS are exquisite —anonymous

i think you're exquisite as well, love! <3 thank you~

Are you eventually going to do more father fox content?? He's my favorite and I love him so much ♥️ —anonymous

ye! i have couple requests for more hcs for him~though they're all kinda pretty broad. if you have anything more specific for a hc request, hmu! i'd love to write a full piece of him someday too, since i think his quietly manipulative personality is fascinating to work with.

Daddy Bull and Duke content soon? I NEED these two fine beasts in my life!!! And can’t wait till the cute baby arrives!!! And hopefully many more…😋🥰 —anonymous

send in a request then~! preferably something a bit less broad, aha, but yes!

i especially would love to write a full story of those two someday, maybe as a book?

Hi hey sorry to bother you, hypothetically if I wanted to make an ai bot of one of your beastfolks, would that be alright? If not I totally understand, I just want to make sure! —anonymous

as long as there are proper credits included, go for it! just please be sure to link back to me if you do make one <3

whewwww, i...really hope i didn't miss anyone. most of them were (or looked like) a request of some kind and two i wanted to put into their own posts for me to answer soon.

hope yall are doing wonderfully and are having at least a decent holiday season!! ima try and get something nice out by christmas so heres hoping!! just...gonna decide on which i wanna do...lol.

#ghosts are curious.👻#☠️not writing...#anonymous #asked #answered #☠️monster is whispering...#beastfolks #beastfolk

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amphiptere-art · 8 months

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I just remembered all my older AUs. I haven't talked about them. Because well. They're not TSAMS. They're just standard security breach DCA. I've already gone on little tirades about these guys. And technically you're supposed to find out more about them in the RBB adventures of the cube. But since no one's interested in that, perhaps you guys would like if I just went on a tirade.

Down below the poll Is this shortest versions of the descriptions I have.

mechanical medic AU- story focused.

(Not in poll, But one of my lesser known AUs)

Ralph the Repair Dragon works as a moving parts and service. But is haunted by 3 fragmented souls of mechanics that died in the Plex. Sun n Moon struggle to get the medical mechanic animatronic to leave them alone.

Purrfect Thief- story focused.

you are a shape-shifting cat. You work with The gang Lord Eclipse but live as a house cat with the detectives Sun and Moon. You are an informant with the spiders web. A info company owned by DJ. Life has been simple and happy. But on the horizon a pack of dogs is ready to ruin that simple life.

Saving Waves- story focused

a sun n moon mer story. Were sun n moon were once in our lab/mer fighting facility. They are saved by a rehab facility and have to learn how to be normal Mer again. Also following the other side of the family. Who are trying to get pesky humans to stay out of their wild waters.

Warehouse AU- story / ask focused.

after the fire story were the dca, Freddy, DJ, foxy and Bonnie are moved to a big werehouse (owned by a y/n) is modified into a mini Plex (honestly more like a side road arcade that's bigger). And the dca has to relearn how to function with the band.

Rusty wheels- ask focused (lots of lore though)

a apocalypse au were a nanite Afton virus infects the world. It's cyberpunk with a rustic feel. Y/N has a big truck sized motorcycle thing and finds sun n moon. And drags them in their attempts of adventure and survival.

Cryptid eater- story / ask focus.

a Sun and Moon are Hunters story but you are a creature that eats vampires and werewolves and things like such. And the story takes place with you trying to convince them that you're on their side.

Warehouse Daycare- ask focused

a version of the warehouse AU where it's only sun n moon. The werehouse is smaller and they grow a closer relationship with y/n and a emotional support cat.

Stop you silly siren- ask focused

suns a tired Pirate. moons a silly siren. Eclipse is an angry sea captain. Popped in my head. want to see were it leads.

Creature dca- I made it for fun.

a random look for sun n moon. Has flip floped between being and basic non animatronic form to fey creatures that deal with changelings and guardian God entities.

Star foolery- a word for silly situations with no lore ties.

basic place for me to draw the dca in different situations. no major story but has lore. does occur during after and before in dca history

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superheroauthor · 3 months

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I’m Alive! Sparky The Superhero’s Story

Chapter One – The Train Journey Home

The Spark that lit my life lit the world

Historical, Great Earth

Some people call me Sparky, for that is my name. I don’t use that name often but that is my name – in this life anyway.

I used to be called Parker Maitland. Before I died, that is.

I have the names of all the people who died to make me. I sometimes use one of those.

Today I was calling myself Chunky, as that is what I am not.

Six foot tall and skinny is what I am. My head is a mass of wild black hair, spiking out in some places and flat in others, and at the back in a long ponytail past my shoulders and down my back.

A leather trench coat I wear, hobnailed boots. I look normal, but I am not.

I was on a steam train returning from a hunt. I had been killing werewolves in the surrounds of the city of Hex. That’s in the West Country. Now I am returning to the city of The Smoke – the main capital of the city lands, that is.

As I looked up at the clockwork magic glow-bulbs, floating on the train’s ceiling, I was thinking about my life. This one, my latest one.

You have to understand, ten years ago I died. I was an engineer, one of those persons who could make anything from anything. To fix things was easy, complicated things took longer and the impossible, well, that did take a very long time but I could do it.

With those skills I became an inventor in this clockwork world. That was what worked here: clockwork, a little magic and of course steam.

This was not Old Earth or even Old, Old Earth. This was NEBULON 6, now called Clock. It was different from the other worlds. Very different from Old Earth where we had come from in The Ark. Different even from Great Earth where my ancestors were supposed to have lived.

Here, the highest intelligence was the Punks, the punkawathas, but they have vanished now. No-one knows where they have gone. They are like a myth. They’ve been gone centuries. Next in the levels of genius were the Gods, or that is what they called themselves.

Actually, they were Creators. Men and women who messed around making new things. Not inventing like I can do, instead they created new creatures. The werewolves that I had been hunting were one of the breeds of those creatures.

They were geniuses one and all, the Creators. After all they had made me. This me.

The best of the creators was Doctor Gory. She was a female doctor of incredible beauty who was totally nuts and liked inventing the weirdest things ever to be been even imagined. Zombies, vampires, dragons, werewolves, hellhounds, killer robots, mummies, gargoyles.

Yes, she could make them all.

She dug up corpses and would have turned them into demons and devils but she could not perfect the reanimation process. That process was taking a dead body and turning it into a living creature.

Not one of the Creators had managed this. It was said to be against the will of the higher beings of this world. However, as far as we knew, here on Clock there were no higher beings. That thing about the higher beings was an old saying, a hangover from Old Earth. Here the people did not really believe in Gods and the like. The closest things to them were the Creators and they could not give life to a dead person.

This was considered on Clock to be the difference between Gods and Mortals, the essence of life. As no-one here could demonstrate that elusive power, no gods were worshipped.

We had no Gods but we did have a few cults. The Cult of the Old Ones, the punkawathas. Also, the Cult of the Green Earth who were into growing things. They thought all things living were beautiful and all connected to one another in some mystical way.

No Gods though. Not on the planet of Clock.

Now though there was a Creator who could give life. Doctor Gory. I knew this for a fact. After all, she had given me life. Made me from many corpses, adding and subtracting bits until one day I arose. Alive.

A glow bulb above me blew and I reached up and took it in my hands. I twisted it and it split into two pieces, each piece a mass of clockwork. I span the flywheel and it glowed for a second and then died. The magic in it was weakening.

I turned my back to the other passengers and touched that tiny little wheel and sparks came from my finger. The wheel span again. The sparks from my finger had powered up the small amount of magic again.

I twisted it back together again and it glowed with a pearl-like light. I let it go and it floated upward to the ceiling of the compartment.

Everyone clapped.

I saw the conductor coming and, after a quick bow, walked to the little compartment between the carriages.

You see, I could not afford a ticket. You don’t get paid for killing werewolves, you know.

The price of train tickets these days is extortionate, hideously expensive. Fifteen shillings and thruppence when you could buy a loaf for a halfpenny. That was the price for a trip from one city to another. In my youth, near on eighty years ago, the price was one shilling for a ride from one city to another. Travel two cities along and it was two shillings. The price of a loaf then . . . a ha’penny.

There was only one thing to do.

“Tickets, please!” came the cry as the conductor opened the door to this compartment and faced me, shutting the door behind him.

I nodded at him and he came close. I held a coin and put it in his hand and then I used my power. Sparks flew and he got a jolt of my power, pure ‘tricity and he flew back and hit the compartment wall. I coshed him and rifled the fares pouch, big leather folding thing it was, to hold tickets and the money. It was a lot of money but I rifled his pockets just the same.

A screwdriver, that would come in handy. Obviously, he did odd jobs on the steam train as many others did. Screws, nuts and washers in a little pouch. Excellent. Some small change, he wouldn’t need that. Handkerchief, no. Kerchief around his neck, no. Keys, excellent. I could use those. Mints, they would help pass the journey.

Now it was time he left. So out of the door and onto the tracks he went. It was alright. The train was picking up speed. One hundred and ten miles per hour. He would be dead as he hit the ground. All right and dandy. No witnesses at all.

I could not afford the fare and I would need to eat tonight and maybe get new lodgings, so my need was greater than his. It seemed simple to me.

Who hunted the beasts to keep the city folks safe? Me? It was only right he pay me back.

As I passed into the next carriage, there was a food seller. There would be at least a couple on every train. This one was selling meat pies. He didn’t state what the meat was and I did not enquire. On some matters, it is best to be in the dark.

Oh? I am an animated corpse, do I need to eat? The truth is, not really. It’s more of a habit from previous lives. Not my previous lives, all our previous lives.

If I eat, I need to eliminate. Urinate the liquids and defecate the solids. It’s a messy business so sometimes I go weeks without eating. Nonetheless I like to eat and drink.

It makes me feel human.

Can I die? Fucked if I know!

My heart beats, my brain works but can I die? I do not know.

All I know is ‘tricity flows through my body at all times.

Do I weaken if my blood flows away? Again, I have no idea whatsoever.

I still have blood, my heart still beats, my brain still works. That is enough.

I am good at surviving. I have to be, to stay one step ahead of the Creators.

The first true animated human. They all want me, the Creators that is. To know how I work.

Maybe they will cut me up into little bits to find out. That is why I stay one step ahead of them.

I know them all. From a research point of view anyway. I know where they live, what they like to create and what they want to make in the future.

The fog was getting thicker. We would get to the city soon. Getting off would be no problem. I had my ticket. In fact, I had a whole load of tickets.

Everything had been tucked away in my long trench coat. A big black leather one it was, that went down to my knees. There were so many pockets in it, I couldn’t count them up. Normal pockets, hidden pockets, clockwork-magic pockets. Even one that needed steam to open it.

On top of that, my backpack. That too had lots of pockets though it was not large. Just a little pack like walkers use.

It was dark outside but then it always was from the train. City magic and the rest of the country did not mix. They couldn’t see the cities and the trains, those from the country.

I saw someone with a music box. Just a little one, smaller than the palm of my hand, churning out a horrible tinny little tune that sounded discordant and annoying.

Fog was seeping into the carriages now. The floor was like a carpet of gloom. Good, that meant the station was very close. A whistle echoed down the train and the lady put her music box in her long pouch.

I did not grab it or hurt her. That would be rude. She had done me no harm. She had not overcharged me.

As we embarked from the train, we queued to return our tickets to the guard and leave the station. As the lady got her ticket punched, I cut the cords to her pouch with a tiny razor blade. The music box dropped into my hand and was in one of my pockets in a flash.

I was then impatiently waving my ticket about and the guard took it and I passed through. I went in the opposite direction as the lady. I was going towards the Murky Café.

All was gloomy on this street. The fog made my vision ahead into a haze so I could barely see ten feet. Steam powered trams were rocketing past on the roads making them difficult to cross. The lights were from gas lamps, the poor man’s choice but used by the city to light the area at night.

Wealthy people, even middle-class people, lit their houses with clockwork magic. A few used this new-fangled ‘tricity that had been invented some years back. Invented but not quite trusted by most. Clockwork magic could light and heat your home at the flick of a switch so why use this untested ‘tricity? It was mostly the flashy new rich that did it. The more steady rich stuck to the old ways.

The poor, all they could afford was gas and then only for lighting. Heating their little hovels would have just cost too much.

I went into the café and ordered a Roo pie and a cup of java. The Roo pie dutifully jumped around on the plate until I speared it with a fork. It wasn’t alive, just a magical effect to make the food more interesting. As I ate, I took apart the music box.

I did not nick it out of spite or even because of the horrible noise it made. It had components I needed. I took it all apart until it was just cogs and gears and bits of metal on the table. The flywheel was rising and dropping just slightly on the table, thus showing it still had magic in it.

I took out my jeweller’s screwdrivers and a magic battery from one of my pockets. I rearranged the music box and its components around the battery and fitted it to the end of my cosh. The cosh had lines of sparks running up and down it now. There was only a little metal box left of the music box. I screwed this onto the base of the cosh and the sparks stopped. Tapping that box would make the sparks flow through the cosh or stop them if it was on.

The café was quite large but also dingy. Grease slid down the once painted brown walls, fog carpeted the floor. The wood of the chairs and tables was cheap, indeed the legs of some of the chairs were quite spindly. They would not survive another year.

There were no table cloths here, just the tops of the tables, discoloured by many years of use.

I drank some java out of the ceramic pint mug. Suddenly my pie was snatched away and a goon was leering at me and laughing. He crammed the whole pie into his mouth, crumbs and bits of food spreading across his face or dropping on the floor.

This café was for solitary folk, but sometimes the clients were not the best brought up.

“Give me money for java, runt!”

I was no runt at six foot tall but he was no runt either. He had a couple of inches on me and was built like a brick train station.

I stood up. He just laughed, spitting what remained of my pie on the floor. There was no doubt of it, he was a big man. Dirty, heavy overcoat, big black hobnail boots that might have been from a Crusher. Leather knee britches with patchwork cloth gaiters to cover up his wool knee-length socks. A cap that looked like it had been dipped in oil.

This man was a roadman. The sort that slept outside under the train arches, who stole for a living and moved from area to area in the city to avoid the Crushers catching up with them. Hard as nails and twice as thick.

I think this one has been on the guano juice. The guano was a fruit that only insects ate because its smell was disgusting. Its taste was supposed to be worse. If you had the stomach to drink its juice though, it had a psychotropic effect, as well as getting you pissed in one second flat.

“I need money for java, runt, and so you got to pay.”

You never showed your purse to a roadman. He would steal it the second you went to give him a coin. He would then punch you in the mouth to say thank you.

“He won’t leave!” complained old Tucus, the owner. “He leaves and you eat for free for the night. He never comes back and you always eat for free.”

I understood what he meant, though the roadman probably had not.

Get him out and eat my fill, kill him and I would always be fed here.

Old Tucus was the owner of the Murky Café. He was in his fifties, old for this part of the city. He was as fat as a porcine, a good thing for a cook. I never thrusted thin cooks. He was always sweating but then it was hot back there in the kitchen.

He was a good man Tucus, a man you could trust. A man who had fed me for nothing on more than one occasion

I pushed my head backwards and it tapped my neck support. Though it was not really a neck support. I pulled the piece of metal at the back of my neck and as it slid upwards and out, sections of metal dropped down to form a crossbar. As it slid totally out more sections dropped into place and there was a sword. A good sword. One of my own design.

I shook it to make sure it was rigid and all the bits were in place. The handle was long so I could use with a one hand grip or two. By the looks of the roadman I would need two.

Now he was looking at me with apprehension. Roadmen are bullies, plain and simple. They get out of their heads on guano juice and bully all around them to get their food and drink. The only ones they didn’t bully were café owners. They needed places for shelter in the day, hot food and drinks so café owners were safe. Hurt one and the cafés all across the city could ban them.

Worse, the café owners could get Crushers to guard them.

I swished the sword through the air. It cut through the air with a satisfying breeze.

The roadman was no fool. He slipped on a metal gauze glove and pulled a knife. The glove was to grab bladed weapons, the knife to cut me and make his point.

“Leave naked or don’t leave,” I told him to wind him up some more. His whole life would be in his pockets. He was a roadman.

I stood there, breathing easily but doing nothing else. Tucus was hardly breathing at all I saw.

A flash of movement and the huge man was charging me, one hand out to grab the sword, the other hand held back in readiness to thrust deep when my move was exposed. I did not move and, hardly believing his luck, he grabbed the blade . . . and I let the sparks flow through me into that sword and from the sword into that metal gauze gauntlet.

Cooked flesh, smelling like porcine, wafted its odour through the room as the man screamed and snatched his hand back. The blade swept through its arc and the roadman’s head came off clean. Blood spurted like water from the neck in a fountain. One second, two, three, four and the body fell, spraying blood onto the tile floor.

“Sparky, you excel yourself!” Tucus seemed exuberant, maybe too happy to just have rid himself of a roadman. Maybe he actually cared whether I lived or died. “You come back later and your old mate Tucus will lay on a feast for you. Porcine with ogre-berries, you like that. Your favourite, yes?”

“If the Crushers come in, it was Chunky here tonight, not Sparky.” I gave him the stare to show how serious I was.

He looked a little lost for a moment and then caught on.

“Chunky, the fat boy, yes. He carries an axe. That one?”

I grinned and left the café.

I was wary of Crushers.

What’s a Crusher?

Like a policeman. I think that’s what your word is. Securiza they were on Old Earth and on the Old, Old Earth world, I am sure it was police. Or was it polite?

Our Crushers are nothing like polite. They are seven foot tall with huge feet in hob-nailed boots. The Magistrate is in charge of them but they follow no rules.

It is their job to stop trouble. If they see a theft, they catch the wrongdoer and give them a beating that puts the culprit in the wellbeing clinic. If they see a criminal beating on someone bad or killing them, the Crusher will kill the culprit, just like that.

I once heard of a word called Law – there are no laws here. You live with each other peacefully or a Crusher beats your brains in.

I left the café and hit the fog. Night-time fog was the worst. Soot covered buildings reared out of that mist, trams flashed by on the roads, hardly to be seen. Paths always full, people busy from dawn to midnight. Everyone being careful not to be pushed into the road. The trams would not stop. They were going too fast. Fall into the road and you were probably dead. The tram would ride right over you.

I hit the shadows for two backstreets and then saw my room from the rear. No light. The curtains looked to be open but in the dense fog it was hard to tell. The streetlamps were not bright and could not cut through the fog, they made patches of light and gloom with the odd patch of good vision up to ten feet away.

I shinned up the drainpipe. Nothing. I hung over and peeked in. Nothing. I slid from the drainpipe onto the window ledge and carefully eased up the window. I heard a pin drop, which was good. No-one had entered this way.

I flicked a spark from my finger to the globe above my bed and it lit up my room. Empty. In I went and rushed to the door. I checked it. Yes, there was the wedge in the bottom, there was the wedge in the door-crack, there was the pin at the top. No-one had been in here.

Every month I put money in the landlady’s safe. I opened it without a key and locked it after. The coins were always in a blue cloth pouch so she knew it was I paying. Just to be sure.

For that, she rented the room and did not pry. Which was good. Anyone opening that door would get a crossbow bolt into their body, aimed for the trunk, not the head. I never used the door, only the window.

I stared at the glow bulb and drifted off into my thoughts.

First was The Ark. Praise be its name. Don’t know what that means. They taught to me in school in my real life, over sixty years ago.

Here’s what I do know. A planet called NEBULON 6 (now called Clock) was to be colonised. Great Earth was overpopulated and had problems with something called solar radiation.

The Ark came here many years ago: some say an age, some say two or even more. Hundreds and hundreds of years, maybe thousands, no-one really knows.

The Jezel Ark had been carrying the ten thousand new inhabitants. Instead of the smooth landing it had been supposed to fulfil, it crash-landed. All of the scientific equipment was damaged. It was in the rear of the ship and that part blew up.

After that, life was basic. There were two factions. The modernists who thought they could somehow bring all the technology of Great Earth to this world by building it. Opposing them were the veterans, the armed forces that was supposed to protect the others in case of hostile beasts. The veterans wanted a basic existence, hunting and fishing. Farming for all who would not hunt.

The veterans won. They had the weapons and the skills to use them. They went out of their way to kill all scientists and modernists so there could never be an advanced society.

The air was breathable, there were beasts to hunt for food, fruit on trees and the grain was plentiful. The planet had been selected as it was a veritable Eden.

Unfortunately, within a hundred years, the thing called science was near enough forgotten, it had become myth.

Life was very primitive . . . until the punkawathas came forth. The punkawathas were the true inhabitants of the planet. Something that did not appear on the checks before colonising this planet. They had their own city. One that was shielded from scans or even Neo-Earthling eyesight. Unless it was shown to you, then you could not always see it.

It was a city of clockwork and magic and steam.

The punkawathas showed this city to some of the brightest men they found. A thousand men and a thousand women were selected.

I can only tell you what the punkawathas looked like from the myths that have come down from generation after generation. They were twenty foot tall and looked a little like baobab trees. A dull purple flesh with green rush like hair. The masses of green hair surrounded the purple body so it could hardly be seen. Seven arms projected from under that green hair. Each of these arms had hands that seemed to have a dozen fingers. Long delicate fingers with many different joints in them.

This is just the myth, of course. They could look like regular human beings for all I know.

The punks, as they were called, taught the chosen people, men and women alike. They showed them how to use these things of the city, how to make them. How clockwork magic was better than any technology or science. They taught these select people how to live in the luxury of the punkawatha way. The humans mastered these skills with the teaching of the punks. It did not happen overnight. It took over a hundred years and the human numbers increased fourfold.

By then other cities had been built and connected up with the steam railways. The punkawathas smiled on their efforts and then just vanished. Maybe to another city like the first one or maybe to another sort of civilisation altogether.

The human numbers grew. They stayed in their cities that the Veterans could not see. They made another city and another, linking them up by steam railways that had clockwork magic to make the trains invisible to the outsiders.

Years passed and now there are now thirteen cities. Each about a hundred miles apart.

I awoke. I must have dozed off. I had arrived in the city on the train in the evening. It was now night. About three at night on the ten-hour clock.

Our clocks are ten hours in the day, from dawn until dusk. Ten at hours at night when the third moon joins the other two. When the first moon goes down, that signals daybreak. It is odd to some but anyone hunting werewolves was cool with it.

Three moons, two suns and glorious weather, only raining at the weekends to help the crops grow.

Out of my window I went and onto the ledge. I felt out to the light globe and the spark returned to me and the light went out of the room. I was then closing the window and sliding in a pin.

Down the drainpipe and sliding through the backstreets quick as a warehouse rat.

The one constant on all inhabited planets in the Universe – rats. All planets seem to have them. Ours were grey furred and about eight inches long, another eight for the tail. Those were city rats. The ones outside the cities came in all shapes and sizes.

Like crocogators, they are supposed to be on all the planets too. I had never seen one but they were supposed to be on Clock.

I did not enter the Murky Café immediately when I got there. First, I stared through the window. No Crushers. I opened that door a bit and slid through without the door even hitting the bell at the top.

Tucus was cooking and had his back to me so I sat down, quiet as a sewer rat. When he looked around, he near enough jumped out of his skin.

“I bribed the Crusher,” he informed me. He was grinning. He had good cause. No café owner wants a roadman setting up residence there.

Crushers making up their own rules cause people to be nervous of them. People will always report a robbery to them or suchlike but never want to socialise with them. The Crushers get fed at the cafés. They sleep at the boarding houses. They get booze at the public houses.

And they never pay a ha’penny.

If a Crusher eats in your café, he will guard your café, he will hunt anyone who makes mischief in your café. Same for the pubs where they have their own private little room.

Crushers, though, are always open to a bribe.

They are huge men with massive strength but is said when they retire, they shrink down to normal size and then have all their wealth to keep them going in their old age.

They retire at forty. It is a risky life being a Crusher. Most do not make it to thirty.

“How much?” I asked, meaning how big the bribe had been.

“Ten shillings.”

I offered it and he nodded.

I took four half crowns from the purse in my secret pocket and went to his counter and offered them to him.

Ten shillings was a lot of money when a loaf was a ha’penny. I paid two shillings a week for my room and though not large it was a tidy room with no leaks or damp patches.

“No, you don’t pay me, Sparky. I feed you. That was Tucus’ promise, remember? Crusher Bill took the bribe and the body with him. We both knew the roadman, Crusher Bill and me. He has been causing quite a problem down here in Whitechapter. Best him dead. Tucus will gain more customers now without that ‘un hanging around scaring them.”

He pulled a plate out of his magical oven. The food would be hot, the plate cool. On that plate was a mountain of porcine meat and ogre-berries.

“You eat here now, heya? Nowhere else. And you eat free. When you here, you guard old Tucus. When you are not, no matter.”

Tucus was no young one. He was getting on in years. He was a tubby man, portly, with a sweaty face that no-one could call beautiful. On the other hand, deep down, he was beautiful.

It was said after work he took food down to the ‘street rats’. They are the homeless kids that survive by thieving. Most nights they were hungry, maybe ravenous if they had not got a mark in a day or two. They were all around the city. Tucus had food for any who were at Grim’s warehouse, a decrepit old place that had shut down years ago.

He never had to worry about being mugged on the way home. Crusher Bill escorted him to the warehouse and home. Tucus made him his favourite meals as an exchange. Whatever was on the menu. If Crusher Bill decided he wanted frog burgers then that is was he got. Or flayed porcine stew.

(The porcine was flayed just before it went into the pot, not while it was still alive.)

I tucked into the food, a mug of steaming hot java was handed to me to help wash it down. Tucus was busy making sandwiches. He then popped them into poly bags. Each time the poly bag sealed itself to keep the food fresh.

Poly bags are made of a thin, blue, almost transparent material. Sometimes they’re big and used as shopping bags: they don’t seal but are very strong and will never break, not even if you put broken glass into them. The smaller bags sealed themselves when tapped and are for preserving food. Years could go by and the food would still be fresh.

“Onyx eggs and pepper sandwiches.” Tucus wiped trickles of sweat from his brow. “For when you go adventuring again.”

He looked at me and I knew what he was after. Souvenirs. I sold them sometimes or used them to make things with.

I patted my pockets until I found something. It was not big. I pulled it out.

“This is a werewolf’s tooth,” I explained to Tucus. “You can only get them while fighting the werewolf while it is its wolf form. A few days a month and they have to be alive when you take the tooth. After they die, they revert to the human the Creator made them from. This was from a werewolf who was humanlike. He was as tall as me. Saberfang, he was called.”

The tooth was three inches long and an inch wide. There was a strange blood red patterning in this fang. The crimson marking running through it made it almost look alive.

“I think this werewolf was made by Lady Molly, her who lives up in Castle. I could be wrong. There was a whole pack of them both in and out of the city. How she got them all from Castle way up north down to Hex in the west I do not know.”

“In cages?” he asked, loving the stories as much as the curios. “Or maybe she used one to bite humans and turn them?”

“Werewolves cannot make other werewolves by scratching or biting,” I told him. “That is a myth. When they die, they turn into the corpse of the human that were used to make them. It depends on what Creator made them and how. They can turn into the corpse of a wolf. This will be much smaller than the werewolf who is a huge thing, ten foot long and massive in bulk. Mine was smaller than that. A different type from the norm.”

I then added more explanation. All of this he would relate to his customers when he showed them the tooth: “The moon is actually full only for a brief time, seconds or minutes. It appears to human sight though to be three days. That is how long it is for the werewolf who turns when seeing it. They do not turn back until the full moon is totally gone three days later. Sometimes the moon is still visible in the day. The moon does not go away; merely our perception of it in daylight is affected. It is always visible to werewolves. They change at night, have a day and a night and then another day and a night and change back at dawn. They are then completely normal for the month. There is no way of telling them from normal humans in the month. They always know what they are, after their first change.”

“You know so much.”

I was grateful for his praise. Hunting werewolves was a thankless task.

“I have to, to hunt the beasts. It is said there are werewolves on all the planets. Can you believe some planets have only one moon?” I shook my head. It was hard to believe. “The werewolves around here are triggered by the rising of the green moon, Leaf. When that is full, they cannot help themselves. They have to turn. They have no control of it.”

He tried to give me a sovereign for the tooth, a gold sovereign that was worth one whole pound, twenty shillings, no less. That was ten weeks rent for my room.

True, werewolf’s teeth were rare and this one was a beautiful one at that. No use trying to take them after the creature had died. By then they had gone back to the original human they had been made from by a Creator.

“Trade you.” I ignored the money and continued on with my story: “This one was different from usual. Normally they move around as a wolf, sometimes they fight that way too. They can assume man shape, a bipedal shape, which is only natural as they are men or women for every night of the month bar three. This one was pretending to be human in the city. Big heavy overcoat, muffled across the face, top hat and in the foggy lamplight he could pass. He was moving towards a music hall and there were too many people in there so I had to fight him, right then and there. He did not become the beast at all, just fought in his human form, his face a mass of fur and teeth with two long fangs sticking out of its mouth. One of those two was knocked loose by the butt of my sword before I beheaded it.

“I think it was the leader of the pack. More than that, he was trying to achieve something. Not just tracking a victim but up to something. Maybe for his Creator, maybe for himself, when he was human. The rest of the pack were outside of the city. When they feel the moon start to rise, they rush out of the city. They want to be in the wilderness when they go wolf. They love to run as wolves, hunt as wolves, be part of the pack.”

Tucus was hanging on my every word, rapt, drinking in all the information he could get. So he could gossip about it and appear knowledgeable to his other customers. I knew this.

Why not? He was always good to me!

He bought a little globe lamp from under his counter. This one did not glow a pearly white or even a true white. This one glowed an eerie green. Its glow seeped out to encompass the room until I swear you could see bushes moving on the walls.

“This is a momo globe!” he told me and I just stared at it. I would give all my stolen earnings for that thing. They were very rare. I had never seen one before. I would love to take it apart and see how it worked. It was rumoured that there was no clockwork or even steam in them, just a different sort of magic.

On this planet there was only clockwork magic, that sometimes was linked up to steam.

“The person who came in with it called it a Terra Orb, but that’s just a fancy name for it. I knew it was a momo globe.”

Most Terra Orbs did use unusual magic but at their heart was always a flywheel. Momo globes did not have them. No clockwork at all, no metal at all.

“Who were they, the person who bought this in?”

“One of those Cult of the Green Earth freaks. You know the type. They say everything is connected, all throughout the whole of the planet, the universe even. They like to grow their own food and everything is wonderful.”

“So, they grow their own food, do they come in for java?”

“It was a little missy. One about your age, early twenties. Her hair all braided up with multicoloured ribbons. She was as pale as a ghost. Looked like one of those zombies you told me about. Turns out their harvest failed and the whole group of them down at Sewerditch was starving. This was their prized possession. They knew I had a hunter who came in.” He nodded at me and smirked. “One who changed things from this to that. A tinkerer, she called it. She offered to trade it for food or money.”

“How much did you give them?”

“Two sacks of rice, one small sack of salt, three of flour. They don’t eat meat, see. Meat is murder to them, everything being connected. A sack of tung beans and a sack of cobza corn. It seems a lot but all those things I buy wholesale by the cartload. She seemed very happy with the deal and got her hairy friends to take them away. I did warn her my hunter would not be pleased if this was clockwork magic. He would stalk them all. She just giggled.”

“Giggled, you say?”

So, either it was false and she did not live with the other Cult members of the Green Earth down Sewerditch, or it was true but there was something else going on.

He had paid a lot for it, whichever way you looked it at it. Sacks of food. He just laughed and said the golden sovereign he had offered me for the werewolf tooth was more.

We haggled. Him starting out at one werewolf tooth for the momo globe. We finished up him getting the tooth and five bob in two half crown coins. I had haggled him up not down. He could have sold that globe for a bag of sovereigns to any one of the Creators or even one of the mystics down at Bankside.

Bankside was where the rich lived. The mystics down there were the top of their trade. They had made their money and went to live with idle rich. After that they tended to research magics, especially any magic that worked without clockwork parts.

I was getting tired, my eyelids felt droopy.

Hey! I did not get tired. I did sleep but only to let my brain process all that had gone on. Not because I needed recovery time.

I put a shilling on the counter and took down a glow globe from the ceiling. I twisted it open and the glow stopped. I put a finger to its flywheel. A spark seemed to naturally flick across to the flywheel. It span faster.

I was not tired.

“Sleep, there is much to do tonight,” I heard and I looked around café. Nobody but me and Tucus. He was using a poly bag. He folded it just right and then put the werewolf’s tooth in it. As it sealed itself shut, it looked like a small display case.

Who was the one speaking then?

“You know who it is! You sleep, I will work.”

I had only been Alive for about one year and bits of that were still new to me. This magical body for a start. I was learning things about it all the time.

Was that a Creator speaking to me through the ether? I hated Creators. They all had to die. If they did not, they would hunt me down. I was the first being with artificial life. The first monster, if you will.

Many things can be done to living subjects but none can be done to the dead.

Dead is dead, that is the rule. Until Doctor Gory raised me.

Every Creator wanted to know her secret but she would not tell. Creators did not mix. They were secretive, dangerous people. Geniuses that were more than a little insane.

I did not look like a monster. Apparently, I had been hideous before I came to life. Lots of bits of bodies all stitched together. The second I came to life though, I looked like any other human. No scars, no stitch marks, no blemishes, just a couple of blood marks from when a vampire tried to bite me and got herself electrocuted.

“Sleep, peaceful sleep, no nightmares, no ill omens, just peaceful sleep.”

You did not get peaceful sleep much when you were on the run from the Creators. When you hunted beasts and dark creatures of all kinds.

It sounded so promising. Even a normal dream about my last life would be good.

“I promissssssssssseeeeee,” I heard, though there was nobody to say the words but Tucus and now I could hear this was a woman’s voice. I could not recognise it but it was a woman’s voice.

I nodded. I took the sandwiches from Tucus, telling him tomorrow I would be going out for adventure. I doffed my cap at him and left.

I entered my room the same way as before, not trusting the place until the pin dropped and I had gone through the room and checked the door.

Without lighting the globe, I stripped and got under the moth-eaten bedclothes and went to sleep.

reblog for next chapter

#fiction #sparky

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hoedamn-eron · 1 year

Text

jake lockley - monster au

Kinktober Day 3 - Monster AU

Warnings: 18+, minors, DNI. Jake is a vampire. Praise kink, blood kink (I suppose?). Swearing. Intended murder but it's all good. Word count: 1,642 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Day 2 ● Series Masterlist ●��Day 4

Not even a year ago, you would have scoffed at the idea of vampires, werewolves, witches, and wizards, even demons. If anyone had tried to convince you that they were real, you would have spoken to them with the patronisation you give to your four-year-old niece.

But then you met Jake Lockley.

Realistically, you shouldn’t even be alive right now. You’d been out with friends to a bar, and admittedly you were a little drunk, and you had decided to take the shortcut home through the alleyway by your apartment, and Jake had emerged from the shadows in the dramatic way he does and backed you into the brick wall of the adjacent building, intending to make you his next meal.

Your memory of what happened next was a little fuzzy, but you definitely remember the sting of his fangs pierce your skin, something just…snapped in him. He started muttering about how divine you tasted, that he couldn’t just kill you and never have your blood on his tongue ever again. No, he wanted to keep you around.

At first, you were terrified of him and never left your apartment after that night. But it didn’t seem to stop him. He came by every day, checking in on you, bringing you groceries, and trying to coax you to talk to him. It took you a while (of course it did, why wouldn’t it?), but you opened up to the idea of Jake being around. Jake was different from the vampires you'd seen in movies and read about in books. He wasn't just a bloodthirsty monster; he had a complex personality, one that defied the stereotypes. He explained to you that he was part of a hidden world of supernatural beings, a society that coexisted alongside the ordinary human world.

As the months passed, you found yourself drawn deeper into this new reality, uncovering secrets and mysteries that extended far beyond your wildest imagination. The line between myth and reality blurred, and you realized that the world was far more complex and enchanting than you had ever imagined.

And you soon found yourself falling hard for him. And he for you.

It was new territory for both of you when you started dating. He’d been alone for a long time, mostly having flings here and there whenever the chance struck, and your last relationship hadn’t ended well. You were both…tentative, to put it lightly. And you still didn’t know how he felt about…his dietary habits.

But eventually, you both relaxed, settled into a nice flow, where you were just like any normal couple. You went on dates, he spent the night at your place, he’d even met a few of your friends, and of course with his vampire charm, they loved him.

Then came the sex.

Jake was hesitant at first, worried that he might accidentally hurt you, but you assured him he wouldn’t. It took him a few weeks to warm up to the idea, but one night you both just decided to throw caution to the wind and just…do it. And see what happens.

It was the best sex of your life. You couldn’t walk the next day, and not because of the many positions Jake had you in, but because he’d made you cum so much.

The smug bastard paraded around your apartment like a peacock that night.

And here you are, a year into your relationship, still in your honeymoon phase, and still fucking like animals.

“How does it feel, princesa? Feeling good?”

You were at his mercy, spread out on his bed, naked, your wrists tied to his headboard with your favourite tie of his, one that he now only took out for ‘special occasions’. You were keening badly for him, but with the way he was fucking you with his fingers, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“God, you’re so fucking wet for me, you’re practically dripping down my arm.”

“Jake, baby, please,” you moan.

“Please what?”

“I can’t…I can’t take this anymore, please fuck me.”

He smirks darkly at you. You whine as he removes his fingers from you, your pussy clenching against nothing suddenly. Jake kneeled above you, wrapping your thighs around his hips as he grind his cock between your folds, rubbing against your clit.

“Jake,” you sob. You couldn’t think clearly, he’d been edging you all night. You were frantic for him. “I need…I need…”

“Tell me, princesa,” he says, still casually thrusting against your clit. “What do you need?”

“I need you to fuck me, please,” you cry. “Please, Jake, please just…just put it in me, please. Want to cum so bad, please, let me cum for you.”

“You know how much I love when you beg,” Jake muttered with intent. “Such a good girl.”

With a single, swift thrust, he entered you. He gives a quiet gasp when he bottoms out, and you immediately pulse around him, giving a small moan of relief.

He didn’t give you any time to adjust before he was pounding into you at a punishing pace. You thanked the Gods that Jake lived in a corner apartment, because you were sure the neighbours would have complained with how loud you were being. The hours of pure teasing of slow building orgasms, only for them to be ripped away from you, left you oversensitive, and desperate.

“How does it feel, cariño? Feeling good?”

He knows it does, the fucking tease. He’s still smirking down at you, not even breaking a sweat as he fucks into you. The sounds coming from you were obscene; the sound of his dick pounding into you, mixing with the way you were moaning his name like a prayer. His hands gripped your thighs tightly as he thrust harder into you, the way he’d positioned your hips meaning he was hitting your g-spot every time.

“Yes,” you gasp, your eyes closing as your head tilts back onto the pillows. “So good, Jake.”

Jake growls as he unceremoniously grabs the back of your knees and pushes them forward, so far back that you’re bent in half. You let out a loud cry, tears streaming down your face as you feel your orgasm building, just out of reach of your fingertips. You just need him to move faster, and harder…

“Fuck, I can feel you squeezing my cock, baby,” Jake says. “You gonna cum already?”

You nod, opening your eyes to look at him, your lips parted slightly as you look at him with a blissed-out expression on your face. “You feel so good, Jake.”

Jake grins as he leans down over you, pushing you further into a mating press. “Your body is incredible, you know that?” he leans down into your neck, lightly kissing up until he’s nibbling at your jaw, as he continues to piston his hips into you.

You whimpered again, your thighs trembling and your body tensing as you tried to keep up with his thrusts, chasing your orgasm. “Need to cum,” you say, your words slurring, you were so out of it.

“Fuck, baby, let me feed from you,” Jake growls, lifting his head to briefly rest his forehead against yours. He looked into your eyes so sweetly, you almost forgot what he was asking. “I need to fucking taste you, please.”

You nodded eagerly, tears falling from your eyes in desperation, the overwhelming need to cum overtaking your senses. “Yes, Jake, please.”

Jake leaned back down to your neck, dragging his nose up your skin, smelling you before he groaned and sank his teeth into you. No matter how many times he did it, you could never get used to the initial sting, before feeling him suck at your neck, your blood flowing freely from you and into his hot mouth. It felt exquisite. The tingles it gave you whenever he did it was enough to keep you asking for more every time.

As if he could read your mind, his hips pick up the pace, slamming into you with such force, you were being pushed up the bed, your head almost hitting the headboard. You cry out his name, feeling stray drops of blood fall down your neck.

“Oh, cariño,” Jake mutter softly, licking at the puncture wounds in your neck. “You taste incredible. Your blood is so sweet.” He bites you harder and starts suckling on your neck again.

It was too much. The blissful feeling of his mouth and teeth, and the glide of his cock inside your pussy pushed you over the edge, and you feel yourself cumming. Jake’s hand slides down to your clit, rubbing at you with purpose, prolonging your orgasm. You’re floating, you’re sure of it; you’ve left your body and you’re drowning in the pleasure. Your thighs tremble around his waist, you could hardly breathe, every thrust of his hips pushing the air out of your lungs.

You go limp as the pleasure subsides, and your senses suddenly come back to you. At first, you feel the dull ache in your legs as Jake straightens them out, and next you feel his tongue again, lapping at your neck almost lazily. He’s still inside you, but you could feel yourself leaking…had he cum? When did he cum!?

As you catch your breath, he glances at you before returning to your neck. “Are you with me?”

You nod, before giving a breathless, “Yeah.”

Jake chuckles as he shakes his head a little. “Good.”

You were both silent for a moment before you break it with, “That was…that was…amazing.”

Jake snorts against your neck before he lifts himself, meeting your gaze. He gives you a soft kiss before reaching up and untying your wrists, giving them a gentle rub. “How’re you feeling?”

You hum before grinning. “Really good.”

“Good,” Jake said, before grinding into you. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #vampire!jake lockley x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #moon knight #oscar isaac

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tatiablack · 6 months

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THE BLACK VOLUME OF THE DEAD

CHAPTER ONE

LONDON

Remus nervously tapped his foot as he scanned the crowded dance floor of Pandemonium. A club notorious for hosting all manner of Downworld revelries and occasionally attracting clueless mundanes dabbling in the supernatural. So long as the Accords were upheld and no mundanes came to harm, it seemed all was fair game. As a Nephilim, it was their duty to maintain the peace between Downworlders and Mundanes. But here they were, James and Sirius beside him, on an unapproved mission to track down a rogue demon. The rooftop of the popular club was filled with pulsing music and neon lights, but Remus couldn't shake off the feeling that this was a terrible idea.

"Found him," James suddenly exclaimed, snapping Remus out of his thoughts. He followed James' gaze to a figure with blue hair and shimmering skin making their way into the club without any trouble from the bouncer after all he looked no different than the hundreds of people here dressed as vampires and werewolves, it was Halloween after all. It had to be the Ravener demon they were looking for.

Ravener demons are sinister creatures known for their shapeshifting abilities and insatiable hunger for human flesh. These malevolent beings are cunning hunters, capable of assuming various forms to deceive and ambush their prey.

"We don't have permission for this, we could get in trouble!" Remus argued, but James just laughed.

Remus was supposed to keep an eye on these two idiots till The potters came back from Idres. There has been tension in the Downworld the past couple of months with the renewal of the accords approaching, The Clave seems to be ..well Remus wants to say tense but the Clave is always tense. But when they got a tip that there had been 3 mundane killings in the past week, Sirius and James decided that they simply couldn’t just wait for orders, and Remus Agreed, although he’d never admit it.

"We're Nephilim, Moony. We make our own rules," Sirius chimed in with a mischievous smirk.

Remus sighed as he realized he was outnumbered once again. They were already caught up in the excitement of the hunt, and there was no stopping them now. As much as he hated to admit it, Sirius had a point – demons needed to be dealt with immediately before they caused harm.

"Time to party," Sirius declared with a grin as they made their way into the club, ready to take down the Ravener demon before anyone else got hurt.

The trio weaved through the pulsing crowd, their movements calculated and synchronized as they made their way towards their target. The thumping bass pounded in Remus' chest, adding a layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere of the club. As they drew closer, Remus couldn't help but notice how the other club-goers seemed to instinctively move out of the way, creating a clear path for the Ravener demon they were after.

Its electric blue hair stood out even under the neon lights, giving it an otherworldly aura. But beneath its striking appearance lurked a dangerous energy that sent a shiver down Remus' spine.

“So what's the plan then, we can’t just attack it here in the middle of the dance floor. It will attract too much attention,” Remus Siad,

“Easy distraction, we lure it out,” Siris suggested

“Let me guess you wanna be the bait?” Remus raised an eyebrow, knowing Sirius's penchant for risky gambits

Sirius just smirked. Of course he is, Remus thought. He never could understand how Sirius liked to gamble with his life all the time, sleeping with Faeries, and Vampires, even though they should not be dealing with Downworlders to begin with, he never had the urge to follow rules anyway.

“May I ask how are you planning on doing that?” James asked,

“Watch and learn boys, even demons can’t resist my charm,” Sirius gave Remus a sly wink before he disappeared into the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor.

“He’s gonna be fine Moony,” James said

Sirius couldn't tear his eyes away from the Ravenor demon, its form adorned with mesmerizing blue hair. Beauty, even in the guise of a demon, captivated him. His mind drifted to the intricate art of shapeshifting, a concept that had always intrigued him deeply. The notion of being able to transform into anything or anyone stirred a longing within him, especially during moments of solitude when his inner turmoil became deafening. Yet, amidst his yearning, a nagging question lingered: If he could alter his external appearance, would it mend the darkness gnawing at his core, or would the emptiness within persist?

“A demon is a demon no matter how it looks”

Shaking off the tumult of his thoughts, Sirius refocused on the task at hand. It was time to charm a demon.

The pounding rhythm of the music enveloped Sirius as he moved with fluid grace on the dance floor, his body swaying in sync with the pulsating beat. Every step was a calculated dance, a seductive invitation to the Ravenor demon who watched him from the shadows. Sirius's movements were a language of their own, a silent promise of pleasure and danger intertwined.

Sirius glanced back at the bar where he had left Remus and James. James, ever the charmer, was surrounded by a group of humans in extravagant fairy costumes. Sirius couldn't help but wonder if one of them was an actual fairy or just a mundane dressed-up. But his attention quickly shifted as his gaze met Remus's across the room.

Remus's intense focus on him sent shivers down Sirius's spine. He was addicted to that look, which is why he threw himself into any situation that would draw Remus's attention to him. It wasn't easy to capture Remus's attention; Sirius still remembered how uninterested and aloof he seemed when they first met. As a Black, Sirius wasn't used to someone not being immediately drawn to his charm. He envied Remus's love for books, always seen with one in hand. And his painting room, off-limits to everyone but Remus. Sirius longed to be a part of Remus's world in some way. After many failed attempts, he discovered that putting himself in danger seemed to do the trick.

As he drew closer to the demon, Sirius's gaze locked onto its piercing eyes, a challenge and an invitation all in one. The demon's lips curved into a sly smile, mirroring Sirius's own playful smirk. They circled each other like predators in a mesmerizing dance, the tension crackling between them palpable even amidst the chaos of the club.

"Care to join me?" Sirius purred, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down the demon's spine.

The demon's response was a sultry laugh, a melodic sound that echoed in the dimly lit space. "I'm already enjoying the show, darling. But perhaps I could be persuaded to partake in a more private performance."

Sirius's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Lead the way, then."

As they stepped out into the cool night air, the demon's demeanor shifted, its grip tightening around Sirius's waist as it cornered him against the wall. It was then, in the dim light outside the club, that the demon's gaze fell upon black and appeared as if burned into Sirius's neck—a celestial rune, unseen amidst the club's darkness.

The demon recoiled its grotesque features contorting in shock and disgust. "Nephilim!" it hissed, recoiling further as if burned by the mere presence of Sirius. With a mischievous smirk, he quipped, "Oops."

The demon lunged forward in a rage, but before it could reach Sirius, an arrow pierced its shoulder and sent it stumbling back with a cry of pain. In the distraction, Sirius expertly wielded his whip and tackled the creature to the ground.

"What's the hurry? I thought we were just getting started," Sirius taunted with an unwavering smirk as he stood victorious over the fallen demon.

The air was thick and tense as the three Shadowhunters, James, Remus, and Sirius, stood in a triangle formation facing off against the Ravener demon at the backdoor of Pandemonium. The moonlight cast eerie shadows across the cobblestones, illuminating the trio and their demonic adversary locked in a deadly standoff.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at the large, imposing demon in front of him.

“What brings an ugly fucker like you here?” Sirius asked, his black leather jacket creaking as he crossed his arms.

The demon sneered and spat on Sirius's foot in disgust.

Sirius chuckled and put a hand over his heart. “Oh, you wound me.” he said sarcastically “I thought we liked each other.”

James rolled his eyes at Sirius's flirting and interjected, "Stop trying to charm the demon, Sirius."

"But he's such a handsome devil," Sirius smirked, emphasizing the word 'handsome.'

Ignoring Sirius's comment, Remus stepped forward and addressed the demon directly. "I assume you're not too pleased that your plans were interrupted," he said calmly.

The demon growled in response, but Remus continued undaunted. "Well, I'll make this quick for you." He drew out his seraph blade from its sheath. The demon's red eyes widened in fear as it recognized the weapon meant to harm creatures like itself.

"I have done nothing wrong." the demon hissed, its voice dripping with venom.

Sirius's thin lips curled into a disdainful smirk.

"Your very existence is wrong," he retorted, his words ringing out like shards of glass through the darkness. Remus couldn't help but flinch at the harshness in Sirius's tone, so different from the playful banter they often shared.

The demon winced in pain as Sirius's leather whip tightened around its form, eliciting a guttural growl of protest. "I was summoned," it confessed, its voice strained with agony.

The demon sneered, its blood-red eyes scanning the trio with malicious intent. Its slimy skin was a sickly shade of green and reeked of sulfur.

"I was summoned by one of you," it hissed,

James's hand instinctively tightened around his seraph blade, ready to strike at any moment.

"Shadowhunter summoning a Ravener demon?" James asked

Remus and Sirius shared a worried glance, knowing the repercussions if this were true.

"Hypothetically, if that were true," Remus began, "a Shadowhunter could only achieve that through forbidden rituals or by wielding dark magic."

"Which is strictly forbidden," Sirius interjected, his grip on his whip tightening as he glared at the demon.

"But they could do it with the help of a warlock," Remus added solemnly.

The trio exchanged alarmed looks at this revelation. Why would a Shadowhunter turn to such dark practices?

" for what?" James demanded, his voice laced with disbelief.

Sirius scoffed at the idea. "Who would be foolish enough to seek help from a warlock without the permission of the Clave, summoning a demon of all things? Its against the accords anyway"

The demon struggled to form coherent words, its breaths coming in ragged gasps as Sirius tightened his hold on the whip. Its bloodshot eyes darted around frantically before finally managing to choke out a name: "Riddle."

A chill ran down Remus's spine at the mention of the name. Riddle was a Rogue Shadowhunter who had been presumed dead for 10 years. His mastery of dark magic and disdain for the Accords were well-known among their world.

Sirius let out an incredulous laugh. "Not this again! Every time we capture one of you slimy fuckers, you claim Riddle is behind it all. He's dead, practically your neighbor!"

To their horror, the demon wheezed out a laugh in response, its eyes glinting with malice. "Death is not the end for those who dabble in darkness," it rasped, sending shivers down their spines.

Sirius raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Wow, I had no idea demons could be so eloquent. How interesting." He turned to Remus and James with a smirk. "Can we send it back to hell now?"

"Mock me all you want, but it's true. Riddle has returned," the demon confessed with a wheezy breath.

Remus furrowed his brow in confusion. What does that even mean? he thought to himself. How is that even possible? Riddle was supposed to be dead, and his followers were either deceased or imprisoned by the Clave. But as Remus's thoughts were interrupted by the chaos around him, he looked over to see Sirius strangling the demon with his whip, eyes filled with unbridled rage.

"He's coming back for his followers," the demon cackled, blood dripping from its lips. "He's back and he will kill you all." Its laughter bordered on madness. "Except maybe you," it said to Sirius, a twisted smirk on its face. "After all, your father was a faithful follower of his. How is he by the way? rotting still in that prison of yours? Can’t believe your people did not kill him, I wonder why"

Sirius stood rooted to the spot, his body quivering with a tumultuous blend of apprehension and rage. The demon's piercing red eyes bore into him with a ferocity that sent shivers down his spine. In a fleeting moment of distraction, the demon wriggled free from his grasp, its slick, scaly skin slipping through his fingers like water. With a guttural snarl, it lunged at Sirius with a vicious onslaught of claws and teeth, its breath reeking of sulfur and decay.

But Sirius was ready, deflecting each attack with swift and precise movements. James stood by his side, unsheathing his own Seraph blade with lightning speed to join in the fight. Remus notched an arrow in his bow, ready to aim. The demon slipped from Sirius's grasp and made a move towards Remus. With a steely resolve, Remus aimed at the infernal creature, his arrow trained on its beating heart. But before he could release it, Sirius's whip wrapped around the demon’s neck, coiling tightly and constricting its movements. With a grunt of exertion, Sirius dragged the thrashing demon to the ground, his grip unyielding and merciless.

Seizing the opportunity, James pounced upon the writhing demon, pinning it down with all his might as he drove his Seraph blade deep into its chest with a swift, decisive strike. A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the night as the demon writhed in agony, its body crumbling to ash as the flames of destruction consumed it. The stench of burning flesh and sulfur fill the air. Exhausted but victorious, the trio breathed a sigh of relief as they surveyed the destruction around them.

——————-

You can find the full chapter on TatiaBlack 🙌🏼

Make sure to like and repost 🙏🏻🫶🏻 this is my first time writing fanfic ever, please know that English isn’t my first language so if there’s anything weird just be kind 😭💕

#the maruaders #marauders #harry potter #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #jegulus #wolfstar #james potter #james x regulus #sirius black #remus x sirius #remus lupin #regulus black

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oliverreedmasterass · 1 year

Text

Chapter Summary: Rae, Jake, Josh, and Sam head into the woods and Rae learns more about their motley crew.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of death and blood

Notes: Thank you to @infinisonicosm for the fic idea!!

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At a pace similar to the one they had taken to get to the bar, they rushed towards the outskirts of the woods. Their trek was silent for the most part, except for a brief update from Sam that their dad was on his way to the mayor to try and sort things out. Rae should have enjoyed the silence on their journey over, because once they actually stepped foot into the woods, Jake and Josh were almost immediately at each other’s throats.

“We need to go this way,” Jake pointed to the east, where the trees looked especially sinister and dark. Rae stared in that direction and felt her stomach do a somersault in retaliation.

“Absolutely not,” Josh shook his head. “The woods go deeper to the west, we have a better shot at finding something in that direction.”

Rae turned her head in the opposite direction and felt even more dread wash over her. The west woods didn’t look any more inviting than what was in the east. She considered turning back to book it to her house, but after a deep breath to center herself, she tried to channel whatever bravery she had.

“You’re wrong,” Jake stopped in his tracks, glaring up ahead at Josh. That was enough to get Josh to whirl back around and grimace at Jake in frustration.

“I’m definitely not,” Josh countered. “Maybe get off your high horse for once.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jake spat back.

Josh let out a cold laugh. “A little self-awareness would do you some good.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Before Rae could react, Jake and Josh’s hands were curled back up in their fighting positions. It was a relief that Sam stepped in between them this time around, before things got especially messy.

“I found Danny’s backpack in the west,” Sam’s voice was firm enough to break them apart. Josh reacted to that news with a celebratory whoop, followed by a pretty juicy raspberry directed towards Jake. Jake looked like he desperately wanted to dispute his younger brother, but instead gave in and let his shoulders slump in defeat. It wasn’t a battle worth fighting. That still didn’t stop him from shoving Josh to get to the front of the pack so he could lead them deeper into the woods. Josh gave Jake a firm push back, and Jake kicked his foot back, sending it into Josh’s shin. Josh keeled over with a yelp of pain and bared his fangs at Jake, who in turn cackled. This tipped Josh over the edge, since he lept forward and clung onto Jake’s back, tugging him to the ground.

“Stop it!” Rae called out in desperation as she tried to push the two tussling boys apart. The effort was entirely futile: no matter how much she tried, they found a way to return back to clawing and throwing punches at each other. It reached the point where it was becoming too much for Rae to handle, and they weren’t fighting to kill, it seemed more like they were both trying to get something out of their systems. Rae didn’t understand why they had to do that, but she decided to let them get it out, so she fell back in line with Sam.

“Have they always been like this?” she asked. It was still unclear to her why they seemed to hate each other so much. How much of a difference was there really between vampires and werewolves?

“You’re not gonna believe this, but they actually used to be best friends,” Sam said under his breath, so his brother and Josh wouldn’t hear him.

“No way,” Rae gaped back at Sam. She looked beyond him to Jake and Josh, who had started to roll around in the dirt, swiping at each other like feral animals. Sam followed her gaze and shook his head at the sight. It was obvious he was just as fed up as her with their feud.

“They were literally inseparable when they first met in elementary school,” Sam explained. He started to move his hand towards Rae like he did before to show her another memory, but Rae slapped it away.

“Sorry,” she was fast to apologize while Sam cradled his hand. “I didn’t like that the last time you did it. It was freaky.”

“Most people say that,” Sam sighed. “I guess it is a bit weird.”

“It’s…unique,” Rae tried to assure him. Sam snorted, and Rae quickly steered the conversation back towards Jake and Josh. “So they were best friends?”

“I mean, I was super little back then, but I remember when Josh first moved to Frankenmuth, they immediately gravitated towards each other. It was like you couldn’t keep them apart. Well, until my dad found out.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jake cursed beyond them as Josh grabbed a handful of his long hair and started to tug on it.

“Don’t call my mom a bitch!” Josh hollered back, and gave a hefty yank on Jake’s hair.

“He was furious,” Sam continued on, as if nothing was happening in front of them. “I’d never seen him like that before. It was like smoke was pouring out from his ears. He brought Jake and I together and told us we had to stay away from the vampires. They took our mom.”

“Shit,” Rae whispered.

“Jake confronted Josh about it and their argument blew up into this big thing that neither of them have ever gotten over.”

“OW!” Josh screamed. “HE BIT ME!”

That, apparently, was Sam’s breaking point.

“JAKE!” he shouted, powering to Jake’s side. “You know we’re not supposed to bite people! It’s in our code of conduct!”

“Code of conduct my ass,” Jake barked back. Fortunately, though, Sam’s scolding was enough to break the two apart. They moved away from each other, Josh cradling his wounded arm, while Jake clawed at his tongue to get rid of Josh’s germs.

“You two are ridiculous,” Sam shook his head, looking more dejected than upset.

Josh’s phone buzzed, and he gave it a quick glance.

“Our parents are talking to the mayor now.”

“We need to remember what’s important here,” Rae reminded them all. “Set aside your differences, suck it up, and let’s work together to find Sam’s friend.”

“Danny,” Sam quietly interjected.

“Right, Danny,” Rae gave Sam a nod with a sympathetic smile.

“Nice motivational speech, Rae,” Jake said as he patted her on the back. It was hard to tell if he was joking around or being condescending. He took the lead and they made their way deeper into the trees.

They scoured around in silence for what felt like hours, Sam and Jake sniffing the perimeter while Josh and Rae scanned up in the trees for anything. The woods felt barren, which was almost more unnerving to Rae. It was like every creature around them was hiding from something they didn’t know about. Rae wanted to get a better sense of what they might be up against, so she tapped Josh on the shoulder.

“Hm?” he asked with a jump. Rae had a feeling he had been caught up thinking about something and consequently forgot that he had company. “What’s up?” He raised an eyebrow after collecting himself.

“I’m sorry, this is a stupid question -” Rae started, but Josh cut her off.

“Nope, no such thing as a stupid question.”

“Okay, well, are there any other, uh, creatures that exist alongside vampires and werewolves?”

“Actually, Bigfoot is real.”

“Are you serious?” Rae paled. If that was what was taking people in the woods, Rae was ready to throw in the towel. She had done enough to help.

“No,” Josh let out an infectious laugh. “Sorry, I had to pull your leg a little bit.” Rae gave him a playful shove which brought along more giggles. From across the clearing, Jake took a pause from his tracking to see what the commotion was about, saw Josh and Rae, and shook his head, redirecting his attention back to his search. “Aside from Bigfoot, just about everything you grew up hearing about in fairytales and shit is out there.”

“Ghosts?”

“Yup.”

“Fairies?”

“Absolutely. They’re kinda assholes.”

“Leprechauns?”

“Those fuckers can kick hard.”

“Do you have any floating theories about what’s taking people out here?”

“I don’t know if you want the answer to that question.”

“Trust me, I do.”

Josh gave Rae an amused look and shook his head, trying to think of the best way to respond to her question. He leaned up against an exceptionally large balsam fir and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m sure it’s something that’s been hiding for decades, if not centuries. For as young as he is, Sam has a wealth of knowledge. If he doesn’t know what the hell he’s smelling on that bag, it’s gotta be something beyond our comprehension. I’ve only ever heard stories about wendigos, but that’s what I’m going with.”

“Great,” was all Rae could think to say. She had heard tales about wendigos when she was younger, and always got spooked by the thought of greedy humans transforming into a monster so bloodthirsty and completely removed from any ounce of humanity.

“They have a shield of ice around their hearts, so they’re especially hard to kill,” Josh continued to explain. “You have to weaken them before you can get the job fully done.”

“Do you think that’s in our wheelhouse?”

“I’d like to think we’d have some luck on our side that could help us out.”

“You don’t sound optimistic.”

“I’m trying to avoid thinking about it too much.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Have you guys found anything?” Jake asked, rejoining their side. He was caked in sweat and had his brows furrowed.

“Literally nothing,” Josh reported back in a monotone voice.

“I bet we went the wrong way,” Jake grumbled to himself.

Josh’s phone buzzed, saving them from another heated argument, and he checked his notification.

“It’s not going well with the mayor,” he reported.

“Fuckin asshole,” Jake threw up his hands. He stomped away and dropped himself on a wide stump sitting in a patch of grass and wildflowers under the canopy tall firs nearby. In the distance, Sam was still searching around in desperation, hoping to find even a crumb of evidence about Danny’s whereabouts. To Rae’s surprise, Josh made his way out to Sam and started to talk with him about something that was out of earshot. She planned to move closer to figure out what was going on, but Jake spoke from his stump.

“I feel like there’s no way this is going to end well,” he mumbled just loud enough for Rae to hear. She let out a small sigh and took a seat beside him on the stump, their bodies close together.

“That’s the spirit, bud,” she told him. She wasn’t the best at cheering people up - Morgan was always giving her a hard time that she was too sarcastic to be any comfort. To her relief, her comment did get a small smile out of Jake, and he had a twinkle in his eyes as they looked at each other.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into all of this shit.”

“I’m sorry for all the shit you’ve been through. You’ve been dealt one hell of a hand in this lifetime.”

“No kidding,” Jake blew out some air. “Same for you though.”

“You suck it up and power through,” Rae shrugged. That was her mantra, and it had worked pretty well for her so far.

“Well, Josh is the one who sucks things up,” Jake mumbled. He blushed as he made eye contact with Rae and gave a goofy grin. “Vampire joke, sorry.”

Rae scrunched up her face, which made Jake’s grin widen.

“That’s an awful joke.”

“I’ll be here all week,” Jake bumped shoulders with her. They let silence sit between them for a while, watching as Josh and Sam engaged in some kind of energetic conversation in the distance. The air felt like it hung heavy in their air, as if Rae could cut through it with a knife. She wiped some perspiration from her brow and wished for a gust of wind to bring them some relief, though she knew it would never come.

She watched Jake out of the corner of her eye. His brows were scrunched as he stared down at his feet in the dirt, not bothering to blink once. Rae wondered what he was thinking about, and then was haunted by the vision Sam had shared with her earlier. Jake had an innocent man’s blood on his hands. Granted, he hadn’t been the one to directly do it, but she knew that he carried the burden of knowing his mistake had cost someone their life. She wondered what it was like to go home every day to a man who had orchestrated that murder. Did Jake think his dad had done the right thing? Or did it keep him up at night? Did he have to tell himself lies to make him feel better?

She caught a glimpse of him again and grew concerned when she saw that a couple of tears were sprouting from the corners of his eyes. She purposefully turned her head away from him to give him space to wipe his eyes clear, but then slowly offered out her hand for him to take. She wasn’t looking at him, but she had a feeling there was a look of shock sprawled across his face. Eventually he gently took her hand and gave it a light squeeze. So maybe Rae could comfort people if she really cared.

She looked around, still avoiding eye contact with Jake, and frowned at something that was laying just beyond a tree a few yards away, partially shielded by an impressive amount of dried pine needles.

“Your hand is soft,” Jake awkwardly commented, sounding infinitely more calm than when Rae had first joined him.

“Jake,” Rae whispered back, her eyes still glued on the thing. “I think I found something.”

Their eyes finally met, both wide. Rae released her hand from Jake’s grip and used it to point at the pine needle pile. Jake took in a few deep sniffs, which was something Rae was still getting used to, and jumped to his feet.

“Danny,” his voice warbled with emotion. Rae ran behind him as he sprinted towards the tree that seemed to extend into oblivion in the sky. How she was able to see the small square of fabric tucked underneath the pine needles, Rae had no clue, but Jake threw himself into the pile and began to dig, throwing foliage behind him in huge clouds of dirt. Once the dust settled, they stared in awe.

It was a University of Michigan hoodie that had at one point been light gray, but now was dirtied brown from the ground. Jake studied the jacket first in disbelief, and then sadness.

“I wonder how far away his backpack was from here?” Rae asked as she took in the jacket. It looked in rough shape, like Danny had been dragged and thrown around in it. There were tears in the sleeves, and the hood was entirely missing. Jake tucked his hand carefully into the front pockets and shook his head.

“Nothing in there,” he reported. With a sigh he stood back up from his squat, carrying Danny’s jacket up with him and holding it out so he could look at its front. Rae saw the back of the jacket and let out a sharp gasp. “What is it?” Jake looked around in a panic.

“The back of the jacket,” was all Rae could get out. Jake turned the jacket around and his face immediately dropped.

Written in blood on the back of the jacket were five words:

GET ME OUT OF HERE

****

Taglist: @lvnterninthenight, @writingcold, @myownparadise96, @i-choose-the-road, @psychedelicsprinkles, @mama-likes72, @ascendingtothestarssasone

#gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #the frozen light #gvf vampire au #gvf werewolf au

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starsailor-kinthepast · 2 years

Text

i am (not) human

Author: Uru F. Starsailor Length: 770 words Topic: Neanderthals and otherkin

Reddit user u/Susitar states in a comment from 2019: “The question is, how would you notice that you are, say, a Neanderthal spiritually/psychologically? The behaviour of extinct species are always hard to get reliable information about, and any extinct hominid would likely be very similar to modern-day humans in most regards.” In the same thread of comments, Susitar adds: “I often wonder how people are able to "feel" the difference between say, humans and elves too, assuming no past life memories.”

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In 1856, human remains were found in the Neander Valley, Germany. They were identified as a different species than the modern human; the name of this species, homo neanderthalensis (or homo sapiens neanderthalensis), was proposed in 1863. For about a century, up until the mid 1900’s, Neanderthals were portrayed as beast-like and primitive without much humanity. It’s only in recent years, particularly after 2000, that Neanderthal reconstructions are humanlike and humanized.

We’re not sure of the exact years Neanderthals lived, but it could have been as much as 800 000 years ago, or as little as 300 000. About 30-40 000 years ago, they went extinct. They lived in small groups of 10-30 individuals which moved between settlements, often caves but also open-air, as the seasons shifted.

You see humans arguing that Neanderthals also were human; I’m not here to dispute that, but I do want to raise the theory that the reason this is so commonly argued is that humans don’t want to be alone. Many see humanity as the pinnacle of intelligence, of kindness, of rationality and morality; one of the things stated in the 1800’s that served to separate Neanderthals from Sapiens was that they were “incapable of moral and theistic conceptions”.

Going by this way of thinking, this way of assuming humanity, Neanderthals were human. They buried their dead, they cared for their sick, they made art and music and jewelry – they hunted, they crafted tools, they cooked and prepared their food. They had medicine and language, they taught their young, they bred with other hominids.

Now, I understand this isn’t arguing the case of a Neanderthal identity being otherkin, other-than-human-kind. But there are countless other ‘kin that fit the above bill of humanity: elves, gnolls, dwarrow, fae, vampires, werewolves, etc. The difference, I suppose, is that we have tangible proof Neanderthals once walked this very Earth.

Of course, there are differences between humans and the species listed above – some minor, some great. But there are differences between humans and Neanderthals, too. Neanderthals were shorter, bulkier, stockier. They were stronger, with shorter arms and legs, thicker builds and large barrel-chests. Their lungs were larger, as were their noses and their eyes. They needed more calories on the daily.

Sadly, we don’t know much at all about how Neanderthals functioned socially beyond the earlier statements. We can’t say much about what their instincts were, how they behaved, so I won’t say here whether or not they differed socially from the Sapiens at the time.

So, yes. Neanderthals were humans, in the way that all creatures with intelligence and benevolence are humans: in the way that they are people.

This is where I will propose the idea of otherkin, the experience of being otherkin, is not simply being an other-than-human-kind. It’s the experience of being other-than-modern-human-kind. It’s about seeing yourself in something removed from the world we live in, the lives we’re supposed to lead. At its core, the experience of being otherkin is about experiencing a disconnect between yourself and the world/your body. The ‘true self’, or at the very least a different version of the self, is different from the body you inhabit. If the self you imagine yourself as, the self you should be, the self you are, is different from the form you currently inhabit: that’s otherkin.

Neanderthals were human. The experience of being a Neanderthal is not.

I long for a different time. I long for a different body. I long for a society so far removed from this it might as well be alien. I don’t belong among modern humans; my home is in caves and on steppes, between trees and valleys, in crevices and tents and in the arms of another.

When I see myself as a Neanderthal, it makes me feel better. It’s not reincarnation.* It’s just who I am.

I’m a Neanderthal. I’m otherkin. I’m alterhuman; I’m otherhuman.

I am (not) human.

---------------

*This is not to say that reincarnated Neanderthals are not welcome under the otherkin umbrella: the experience of having lived a previous life as a Neanderthal is just as removed from modern day humans as my psychological experience.

#otherhuman #alterhuman #otherkin #neanderthal kin #otherkin writing #star speaks #star writes

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clickerflight · 1 year

Text

Joseph: Part 4 - Officer Muir

Masterlist

Part 3

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I'm so excited about this. This story has really grown in my mind and I have PLANS! You'll have to bear with me, though. Since it's been so long since I wrote the last piece there are a lot of differences. There are not goblins or werewolves in this world. Anyways! I hope you enjoy!

Content: Vampire whumpee, human caretaker, body horror, temporary blindness, grief, hospital whump (specifically the noise and isolation), overstimulation, panic attacks

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist

..................................

Officer Muir sat in his car, watching the cars pass by and checking their speeds as they went. It was always amusing to watch people slow down drastically when they spotted him, but he let them go by. He was quite content to sit and think.

He heard his radio crackle to life and a voice came over the radio.

"Distressed vampire on highway 60 between exit 820 and 821. A human male is keeping the vampire company currently. Ambulance dispatched. Are there any officers in the area that can evaluate the situation?"

Officer Muir picked up the radio and said, "Officer Muir here. I'm two exits down. I'll be there in a moment."

He put the radio down and turned on the lights and sirens. Vampire in distress really wasn't much to go off of. If there was a human there, it could be trouble. Vampires were usually very hostile when stressed out and could turn on the man easily.

Officer Muir sped past the cars that pulled aside for him and soon spotted a large mower and a man crouching in the grass over something. Officer Muir pulled up and got out of his car, looking over the situation. The grass hid what the man was looking at, but he got up, phone pressed to his ear as he talked with the emergency operator on the other side.

"Oh, an officer is here," the older man said. He was obviously human as his wrinkles and dull graying hair proved, which meant the vampire was laying under the coat that Officer Muir could now see through the grass.

"I almost ran 'im over with my mower," the man said. "I spotted ‘im just in time. I let ‘im drink from me. He's in bad shape."

"Gotcha. What's your name?"

"Lloyd Montgomary," he said as Officer approached the coat, noting the twitching movement underneath.

"Alright, Mr. Montgomary. Thank you," Officer Muir said. He crouched by the vampire and could hear the man's whimpers and whines over the sound of traffic.

"Yeah. He's a Moderna vampire. Wasn’t burning in the sun."

Officer Muir nodded and lifted the coat to get a better look.

The vampire was curled in on himself, but Officer Muir could tell he was missing limbs. Not in a torn off way, but in a growing them back sort of way.

"Hey, man, can you hear me?" Officer Muir asked, and the vampire turned his face to him.

Officer Muir recoiled from what he saw. The vampire was growing back much messier than most vampires he'd met. His sightless eye sockets stared out emptily and he still needed to regrow the skin on half of his face.

Office Muir collected himself quickly enough, putting a hand on the vampire’s back through the coat.

“Hey, man. I’m Officer Muir. There’s an ambulance on the way for you, okay?”

“Okay,” the vampire said breathlessly. He flinched and whined, long and drawn out. “It hurts,” he whimpered.

“I know, man. Hang in there. He’ll get you to the hospital and they’ll give you painkillers while you grow out the rest of the way, okay?”

The vampire nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Montgomery said anxiously as the sound of sirens became audible in the distance. “Was I not supposed to feed ‘im, I-”

“It’s fine.” Officer Muir soothed. “He’s going to be okay and what you did was very kind.”

Officer Muir turned back to the vampire and asked, “Hey, what’s your name?”

“J-Joseph.” The vampire looked faintly like he was going to be sick for a moment before he asked, “What year is it?”

Warning bells went off in Officer Muir’s head. “Were you held captive?”

“They, they put me in a box,” Joseph managed. A dry sob wracked through his body, making him spasm in pain.

“Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay,” Officer Muir said. “I’m here. They can’t do anything to you. They’ll have to go through me.”

Joseph nodded, his not-quite-formed hand reaching out blindly and Officer Muir held it. “What year is it?”

“2019.”

Joseph sucked in a shuddering breath.

“How long did they have you?” Officer Muir asked, leaning closer as the sirens got louder.

Joseph just wailed, gripping Officer Muir’s hand tighter, struggling to get closer. Officer Muir gently pulled him closed, settling on the ground so the vampire could hide his face in Officer Muir’s pant leg.

The paramedics were there soon enough, and they coaxed Joseph onto a stretcher. Other officers came and started taking Mr. Montgomery’s statement. Officer Muir was grateful for that because, despite the vampire only having about three and a half fingers in total, he had a deathgrip on the Officer’s hand.

“Sweetheart,” one of the paramedics said gently. “How about you let his hand go?”

“Please,” he whispered, sightless eyes turned to Officer Muir. “Please. Don’t leave.”

Officer Muir sighed. He turned his head and spotted Officer Granger, a vampire woman who often acted as his partner when he wasn’t on duty at the roads.

“Oi! Granger?”

She turned and he tossed her his keys. “Can you get someone to take my car to the hospital? I’m going in the ambulance. And could you let the chief know?”

She rolled her eyes. “She’s gonna tear you a new one when you get back.”

“No she won’t. She loves me!”

Granger sighed and shrugged. With that, he turned back to the vampire and climbed into the ambulance.

Joseph was breathing heavily, rolling his head around nervously as the paramedics got things ready for him.

“Alright, this should help a little with the pain,” the gentle paramedic said, gently poking a needle into Joseph’s half formed arm and plugging a drip to it that would feed in pain killers.

Over the course of the ride, Joseph started to relax, though he never let go of Officer Muir’s hand. After a long silence where the paramedics conferred and joked together, Joseph turned his head to Officer Muir.

“Three years.”

“What?”

“I was in a silver box for three years.”

The paramedic’s fell silent and Officer Muir found himself running his thumb back and forth across Joseph’s knuckles. “Want to tell it… from the beginning?”

Joseph took a steadying breath and nodded.

“David and I… er, David’s my sire, we were going to the store? Or maybe going out to get drinks? I don’t remember,” Joseph said sorrowfully. “A weird van pulled up and, and…. some guys grabbed us. Dressed in robes and stuff. They had silver weapons and there were a lot of them. I never was good at fighting.”

Joseph swallowed nervously. “They took us somewhere remote. They…. I think they were cultists. They tied us up and they poured silver on David’s face. Why would they do that? We weren’t even-” his voice broke off as he heaved another dry sob. He took a moment, the skin growing across his face as he fought for control. “They killed him.”

Officer Muir squeezed his hand, and Joseph squeezed back.

After a long moment of silence, Officer Muir asked, “Do you want to talk about what they did to you?”

Joseph’s breath quickened. “They cut my heart out.”

Officer Muir winced.

“Put me in a silver box and buried me, I think. Someone found the box. And someone put blood in me and cut a part of my heart off. Then I…… I don’t know how I got on the side of the road.”

Officer Muir frowned. “It sounds like they were testing for your age. There’s been a rise of crime rings selling the hearts of ancient vampires around for their knowledge. How old are you?”

“I was born 1984.”

“Kay. So they saw you were a modern vampire and probably tossed you out. You got lucky.”

Joseph shuddered. “Doesn’t feel like I did.”

“I know, man. But you did. You survived. You’re going to get healed up and get some help and you’ll be on your way. Did you have a coven?”

Joseph shook his head. “I’m Hemijeoa Moderna.”

Officer muir tightened his grip on Joseph’s hand. “David was your… bondmate then?”

Joseph was silent for a long time. Officer Muir could see him working his jaw, trying to say something, but all he could do was nod, skin creeping closed over his eye sockets.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered.

“Okay. Okay, I won’t,” Officer Muir replied. “I’m Officer Muir… but you can call me Joshua.”

“Joshua,” Joseph whispered. “Joshua.”

Officer Muir hummed softly and Joseph relaxed a bit more.

“Where are you from, Joseph?”

“Mmm? Oh, It’s a small place. Forreston. Where are we going?”

“We’re going to Keaton. Have you been there?”

Joseph frowned. “No. I lived in Forreston my whole life.”

“It’s nice. It’s a small city, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“And you’ll be here?”

Officer Muir ran his thumb over Joseph’s knuckles again. “I will probably have to leave at some point. I am technically on duty, but-” he said quickly as Joseph went pale and his breathing picked up again- “but, I’ll give you my number and I’ll come visit you when I get off, okay?”

Joseph took slow breaths again, calming himself down. Officer Muir couldn’t imagine what he was going through. Losing your pairbond like that and then being trapped in a burning box for three years? Officer Muir couldn’t begrudge the fact that the vampire was being clingy. It was actually kind of nice. He still didn’t have many friends in the city, after all.

It was too early to be thinking along those lines, though. Soon enough, the ambulance pulled up at the hospital and Joseph was taken to a room where he could grow out the rest of the way, another drip of blood being hung up alongside the pain killers.

After making sure Joseph was settled and comfortable, Officer Muir said, “I have to go, okay. I’ll be back this evening.”

He slid his hand from the vampire’s and pulled out his notepad, writing down his phone number and pressing it into Joseph’s hand. “You can call me if you need to, but I should be back soon,” he said.

Joseph nodded as he clung to the note, eyelids fluttering, though his eye sockets were still empty as the ocular muscles were only just beginning to develop. “Okay. Okay. Thank you.”

“Course,” and with that, Officer Muir left.

………………………………

Joseph sat and regenerated. Without the pain, there was just a tingling where his limbs were growing. The only thing he really didn’t appreciate was the noise. It was so loud here. The machines never stopped beeping, voices passed down the hall constantly, he could smell blood and fear and could hear screams on the other side of the hospital. Every so often a code would be called and he would jump out of his skin, his ears and heart throbbing with fear.

He pressed the blanket to his face, trying to distract himself with the feeling while avoiding the small bumps that were starting to form under his eyelids, biting his lip as his hair grew in and just kept growing until it reached the length it was when he was turned, ticking his ears and cheeks. He pressed his face into the blanket harder, shoulders up around his ears as someone laughed loudly down the hall and the beeping just kept going.

There was something crawling under his skin, something constricting around his chest making it harder to breathe and he still didn’t have feet to escape with.

Desperately, he dropped the blanket and put his hands over his eyes, muffling the sound, but they wouldn’t go away and now he could also hear the rush of blood in his palms.

He was crying, and now he could actually form tears, the droplets hot on his face as he tried desperately to breathe. He tried to keep the sounds down in his throat, his breathing almost unbearable to him, nevermind the stupid whimpers he couldn’t keep himself from making.

A warm hand touched his and he flinched back, opening his eyes. He could faintly see lights and blurs of darkness.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” a male voice asked. It wasn’t Muir. Stars, Joseph wished it was Muir. He’d felt safe when Muir was there.

“”S loud,” he whispered, unable to fight back the hot tears that were still traveling down his face.

“Okay, give me a moment,” the man said and the blur moved.

Joseph watched him go and covered his eyes, watching the blurriness around him for movement.

The man came back. Joseph smelled him coming and only flinched slightly when he felt another touch on his hand.

“I brought you some noise canceling headphones,” he said softly. “It’s pretty normal to get overwhelmed, especially if it’s your first time. Do you want any music?”

Joseph almost said no, but then he realized he really didn’t want to listen to his blood and heartbeat again. He needed something. He nodded.

“Kay. Is there a specific album you’d like? Something longer, if you can think of it, so you have time to get your sight back before you need to change it.”

Joseph shook his head. “Anything works- wait. No. Minecraft music.”

“Okay.”

The man put the headphones gently over Joseph’s ears and, after a very uncomfortable moment of listening to himself, familiar sounds of Minecraft music began to play, reminding Joseph of the mindless hours he and David played the game together.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax as he sensed the man leave again.

Joseph kept crying, but it wasn’t because of the pain or the overstimulation. All he could think about was David’s triumphant grin when they killed the ender dragon on their fifth attempt.

………………………………..

Muir stepped out of the Chief’s office, his ears still ringing a little bit from the bit of shouting she had indulged in.

Granger was waiting for him outside, eyebrow lifted and a little smile on her face. “Favorite, ey?”

“I am,” he replied snidely as he took his keys back from her. “And she was yelling at me for something else entirely anyways. She was only a little mad about me going to the hospital.”

“I see. Was he alright?”

“I think he’ll be okay. I’m not sure. I’m going to check up on him tonight, actually, after I finish some paperwork.”

“Okay,” she said. “You said he was a Hemijeoa, right?”

“Right.”

“Where’s his bondmate?”

“Died in the same incident that got him where he is,” Muir replied, making his way to his desk.

She raised her eyebrow. “You’d better be careful, then. He’s in a fragile state. He might try to pairbond with you.”

“And what would be so wrong with that?”

“Well, you’d have to stick around him a lot more. Plus, you’re human. You wouldn’t feel the bond enough to actually keep up with it and keep him healthy.”

“I thought humans pairbonded with vampires all the time?”

She huffed. “I guess. Still I don’t think it’s healthy.”

Muir rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you get to have opinions. You’re a Ferox yourself, aren’t you? You don’t need any bonds.”

She shrugged. “Just be careful. You don’t want to have to deal with a clingy vampire for the rest of your life.” Without letting him respond, she took off to her own desk.

Muir rolled his eyes and got back to work.

Joseph: @whumpsday @not-a-space-alien @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

From Dust to Ashes: @whumpsday @writereleaserepeat @currentlyinthespiral

Let me know if you want to be added to either taglist. Joseph's taglist is stuff having to do with just this vampire, and the other one is for general stuff written in this whole world.

Part 5

#vampire whumpee #human caretaker #body horror #temporary blindness #grief #hospital whump #auditory overstimulation #panic attack #I love my boy #also #and officer muir is great #he's a main character now!

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doyelikehaggis · 5 months

Note

28. Feed for the fic-title thing :D good luck with your writing!!

Thank you so much, I really appreciate that! (So, I basically wrote this entire fic since it was a short one anyway, so thank for you requesting this one lmao)

"I've gotta admit, I used to think I'd enjoy this a lot more."

Matt gives a grim laugh, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots up through his wrist and into his shoulder. Here's hoping that's not a lasting effect or else he's going to have a rough practice tomorrow.

Elena immediately pulls back, making him regret saying anything at all when he sees the look on her face. He knows the look well; he saw that same guilty expression the weeks just before they broke up. He didn't know but he did. At least then, her guilt made sense, though.

"Matt," she starts to say, shaking her head, "I'm so sorr-"

"Hey, hey, it was a joke," he tries to assure her. Instinct has him reaching out to rest a hand on the side of her neck because he knows...

He has to stop himself short, leaving his hand awkwardly between them for a second before he ultimately decides not to cross that line and drops it back to his side. He swallows the lump in his throat but it hasn't budged in about four years, why would it now?

Elena's face drops along with his hand and he feels he might as well have just ripped her heart out with his bare hands. Funny that, how it would be unforgivable if he hurt her like that. But not for them.

She rubs at her face as she turns away from him, dragging her fingers through her hair with a pained expression. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of this..."

Matt knows that. Elena knows that. Everyone in the universe knows that their lives were not supposed to end up like this. It has been the only thing he has thought every single morning when he wakes up and every night when he tries to sleep. Except he's not mad about it anymore. What's the point?

Heaving a deep sigh, he gives in this time to his instincts and wraps his arms around her. She leans into him without any hesitation, and so he holds her close to him.

"It's gonna be okay," he quietly promises her even though he doesn't know how that could ever possibly be true when any of the people in his life could kill him on a whim tomorrow and he'd be forgotten about in a week.

That thought stirs something bitter in him and it tries to climb his throat but he forces it back down as Elena turns her body in his arms and presses herself against him, hugging him tightly. She doesn't even fight his unreliable word because she wants it to be true just as much as he does.

He lands a kiss on the top of her head, allowing himself just this one thing. Just this one second where it's just them. No vampires, no werewolves, nothing. Just two people who know each other better than they know themselves at time and don't quite know how to untangle the mess they have made of each other and themselves in the process.

"Come on," he murmurs. "You need to finish feeding. You barely took any, you've gotta be starving."

"But it's hurting you."

"Then just... try a different way or something. Maybe it's because you're new to it. There's gotta be some kind of learning curve, right? Like swimming or football."

Elena lets out the smallest laugh at that. She raises her head to look up at him with a slight smile, then she sighs, glancing uncertainly at his neck. It still sends a cold shiver down his spine to be looked at like that. A bit like how he imagines lions look at deer.

But he knows, deep down, that he would allow himself to be caught if it meant ensuring Elena got to live another day. That's not new. He spent weeks after the first crash wishing he had driven her home instead, or that he hadn't convinced her to go to the party at all. He can't think about the other crash at all.

She gets him to tilt his head a few centimetres back, resting against the wall behind him. Her fingers brush the sensitive skin of his neck, resting at the base of his throat. Then she leans in and slowly sinks her teeth into the soft flesh.

It doesn't hurt. Well, there is a prickle of pain, but then it erupts into something warm and he's not sure it's pain at all anymore. He gasps softly when they get all the way beneath the surface. They're definitely there, he can feel them, but it's not obtrusive like it was before. They're just... there. In his neck.

Elena's hand slides up the other side of his neck to keep him still and stop herself from accidentally slipping either. His eyes flutter closed at the touch.

"That's... yeah, that's a lot better," he breathes out shakily.

A wave of disappointment actually washes over him when she pulls back. There's a trickle of his blood on her lip. His stomach turns inside out. Unfurling. He can't figure out if he's disturbed or...

"Was that enough?" he asks tightly, pressing a hand to the small wound on his neck.

She nods and quickly wipes her mouth, ducking her head as if to stop him from seeing like this. He tries again to swallow but it causes stars to pop up in front of his eyes. Elena gets him to sit down on the bench nearby. She keeps hold of his hand. If she can hear his racing heart (which she probably can), she doesn't say a thing about it.

Send me the title/number of a wip and make me write it!

#smells-like-trouble #ask away earthlings!#make me write #tvd #the vampire diaries #matlena #elena gilbert #matt donovan #elena x matt #matt x elena #god I just have so many feelings about them okay #and I realized while writing this that I very much like the idea of their post-turning dynamic being sort of damon/katherine-esque?#their human dynamic I mean #because the way I wrote matt being slightly fascinated by elena while she was feeding on him definitely reminds me of the scene #when damon is watching katherine feeding and he's slightly disgusted and slightly turned on at the same time lmao #because while the whole drinking blood thing freaks them both out there is something to be said about seeing the woman you love like that

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namesisfortombstones · 1 year

Text

Howling II: ...Your Script Needs Work

I am fascinated by the insane sequel Howling II: Stirba - Werewolf Bitch (U.S. title—Howling II: ...Your Sister is a Werewolf). The movie is a train wreck, like if a jet full of mimes crashed into a bus full of clowns. And its behind the scenes story is every bit a train wreck with mishap after mishap after mishap happening to stymie the filmmakers at every turn. Hearing everything that went wrong with the movie, watching the final product makes one think it may have been something entirely different. And logically so, I had always wanted to read the screenplay for the film to find out just what it was originally supposed to be, but all attempts to do so met with failure.

Howling II: Choose Your Own Adventure!

Here is what we know as facts from eyewitnesses who participated in the production of the film; The Howling novel author Gary Brandner was enlisted by the Howling producers to write the screenplay for the sequel and what he did was adapt his book sequel The Howling II (aka The Return of the Howling). When he was done, he turned it in and the producers said "Gary, this is really good, but we have some money in Mexico. Can you set it down there?" Brandner was all "Sure!" and off he went on a re-write. When Brandner turned that in, the producers said, "This is really good, but now we have money from Spain, so can you re-write it to be set in Spain? And the producer's a friend of Fernando Rey. Can you write a part for him?" Brandner was like "Fine" and off he went on another re-write. When he turned that draft in, the producers said, "This is really good, but the Spanish money fell through, so now we're gonna shoot the movie on the cheap in Yugoslavia." Now that Brandner had a book deadline approaching, he basically told the producers, "I gotta go. Do what you want with it" and off he went to go write his next book. Enter a writer named Robert Sarno, whom the producers enlisted to polish up Brandner's work. But what does he do? He throws out most of what Brandner wrote and re-writes an unproduced vampire screenplay he'd written, turned the villains into werewolves, and passed it off as The Howling II.

Seen here: not the person at fault for Howling II. Director Philippe Mora, who says he never read anything but the Sarno draft when he came on board the movie, says that he shot a campy, silly movie. This is almost in line with Joe Dante's original The Howling. That movie played its events dead seriously, but with a tongue-in-cheek tone as if to say, "Yeah, it's scary sometimes, but you can laugh at it too." But Robert Sarno and Philippe Mora aren't John Sayles and Joe Dante. At any rate, Mora reports that after he created his edit of the film and left to go shoot his next movie, Death of a Soldier, the producers got cold feat about having a funny horror movie and decided they wanted a scary horror movie. As such, the producers had the movie re-edited without Mora's knowledge or input and it became the movie it is today. Logically, this would lead one to believe that at one point, Howling II was a completely different movie.

Still probably too much of this guy, though. A few months ago, I was watching the now "lost" TV version of Howling II to see if there were any differences between it and the normal version of the film (and in addition to the new end titles montage, there were a few here and there). But watching the movie with closed captions, I noticed when they announced Christopher Lee's character's name, it was spelled as "Stefan Krosko." Now, since I saw the movie back in... 1989 or 1990 (?), I presumed his name was "Stefan Croscoe" with one 's' because that's how all the Croscoes I've known spelled their name. With the advent of the internet, however, everyone online seems hellbent on spelling it "Crosscoe," which to my knowledge is not a legitimate name. At any rate, I did a few searches for "Stefan Krosko" and there were some hits from some eastern European websites and I subsequently discovered "Krosko" is a real European surname.

What is your name, man?! And what is your deal?! So what is the character's name? I decided we needed to find a damned script then and there to find out. And somehow, I happened to manage upon a site selling a Howling II screenplay and immediately snatched that sucker up. After waiting just shy of a month's time because of the site owner being in the hospital, the script arrived and I finally got to see just what the hell they were dealing with from the get-go. And the results are a disappointing mixed bag. Firstly, I have no reason to doubt anything said by anyone who made the movie. There is a literal laundry list of things that can go wrong with any movie. It's hard work to make a bad movie. A great or even a good movie is a miracle to pull off. However, while there are many differences to get into, this screenplay is more or less the final movie. By and large, everything that happens in the movie is here. Some of it is a little more in depth, but not much. Does the screenplay do anything to explain just what the hell is really going on in this story? The answer is a gritty, in-your-face "no."

“What do you mean it was like that already?!” The draft of the script I have is merely entitled "The Howling II." No subtitles. It's marked as "Revision Draft: May 1, 1984" and "Further Revised: June 20, 1984." It's about 89 pages long with a 4-page "optional" prologue. This is the first time I've ever encountered a writer bothering to craft something that could specifically be discarded. But why did I think anything about this movie would be standard? The prologue opens in L.A. where a couple named Gary and Joann [sic] are trying to get home before the latter's father realizes she's out. When they miss the bus, Gary thinks he's got a great shortcut— through the cemetery. Of course Joann is spooked the entire time, especially when they begin to hear "hideous laughter" that is not coming from Gary. As they flee in terror, a cemetery guard cackles to himself "Bet they'll never take this shortcut again." Scared senseless, the couple takes refuge in a church they run upon. Inside is a casket of one Karen Marie White (the protagonist played by Dee Wallace in The Howling). As they try to go out the back of the church, the coffin's lid opens and Karen emerges as a rotted zombie werewolf. Cue screams and the main titles. And after that bit of standard horror business is dealt with, the script moves on to Karen's funeral scene that opens the movie.

Dame Not-Appearing-In-This-Film The most peculiar thing about the screenplay, however, is the obscene amount of Hispanic character names, even when the story changes to Transylvania in Romania! Somehow, I don't think there are too many Carloses running around Romania. Frankly, Ben White and Jenny Templeton are the only characters whose name made it from script to screen. So do we finally get to discover what the true spelling of Stefan's surname is? No. Because in this script, his character name is Luis Romo. Now, I've seen damnably British Christopher Lee convincingly portray Chinese and Pakistani characters before, so I have no reason to doubt that I could buy him as a Spaniard. But on paper, it just looks silly (slightly less silly than "Stefan Croscoe/Krosko" I suppose). The proprietor of the Transylvanian hotel is named Carlos. The number two (three?) werewolf-in-command is named Vittorio (?!). Vasile the dwarf is Emiliano. And last but not certainly least, there is no Stirba. Well, there is, but she is only known as "La Bruja" ("The Witch" in Spanish) here. She has no true name other than "La Bruja," which is what Stefan/Romo refers to her as, as well (I'm going to use the film and script's character names in order to curtail confusion). This of course further betrays the story's vampire origins as, while La Bruja doesn't behave like a vampire, she's never really written to behave like a werewolf either. Stirba of the film does once or twice transform into a "werewolf bitch," but that's the extent of her werewolfery. Stirba in the finished film just seems to be a sorceress that can randomly grow body hair.

Fernando Rey as... Luis Romo??? This La Bruja business actually tracks to me because of the origin of Stirba's name. "Stirba" (properly pronounced by Christopher Lee and Judd Omen as "Still-buh," although Lee may be saying “Shtill-buh,” which is more correct) is derived from the German word "sterben" (still-ben/shtill-ben), which means "die" or "to die." And I don't believe for a second Robert Sarno was clever enough to come up with that. Maybe Philippe Mora (who alternates between being a genius and an absolute madman depending on the moment you're talking to him). But I'd bet dollars to donuts that Christopher Lee came up with that name, him being fluent in German.

Mora, you magnificent bastard... Probably the most interesting name-related bit from the script is that Mariana, portrayed by Marsha Hunt of Dracula A.D. 1972, in this script is Marsha Quist of the original Howling! Marsha was portrayed by Elisabeth Brooks in the first movie, but—like Dee Wallace—she refused to appear in the sequel. There are conflicting accounts as to why. At any rate, Marsha plays the same part and story function that Mariana does in the final film. Additionally, Marsha/Mariana's sidekick in the early parts of the story is Erle, originally portrayed by John Carradine in the first Howling but portrayed in Howling II by the fine character actor Ferdy Mayne [billed here as Ferdinand Mayne, who reportedly only did the movie because Christopher Lee was in it]. However, the script never seems to acknowledge that Marsha and Erle are returning characters and they are introduced in the text just like every other character, as if we hadn't seen them before.

Seen here: Elisabeth Brooks escaping from the raging tire fire that became Howling II.

I prefer continuity, but eh, we did okay.

Shit no, Ferdy! Nobody’s gonna notice you’re not John Carradine! Or... Martin Landau? So, as I said before, the script more or less unspools exactly as the movie does. No sillier, no more serious. It's the movie. What is different? Well... Ben White is written to be slightly less stubborn and disbelieving in this script than Reb Brown portrays him in the movie. Ben and Jenny don't know each other at all at the beginning. And Stefan/Romo is written as a bit of an aloof goof, at one point falling asleep in front of Ben and Jenny after giving them the lowdown on La Bruja and her evil plans. In the film, Christopher Lee imbues Stefan with a bit more personable humanity and never once does he come off as tired.

”It is her immortal soul which is in very grave danger.” “Please, eat my ass with a bag of skittles, Stefan.” “Now was that so hard? Good day, sir.” In the punk club scene, alas Stefan/Romo is not present in punk clothes and wraparound shades.

UNACCEPTABLE!!! Marsha comes in, picks up some annoying riffraff victims, and off she goes to the warehouse. I had noticed an odd name in the movie's end credits, "Moon Devil." All these years, I assumed this referred to the helmeted guard outside Stirba's castle. Apparently, Moon Devil was supposed to be one of the jerks at the club and subsequent warehouse victims! He absolutely does not live up to that cool moniker.

You’re gonna sit there and tell me this isn’t the “Moon Devil,” script??!?!? The whole slaughter in the warehouse is written to be quite a bit scarier than it comes off in the film. You're let in from the get-go that Marsha/Mariana has brought these people here to feed her werewolf friends. However, whilst Marsha/Mariana does appear naked to lure the men to their deaths, she doesn't seem to be hanging around partially transformed, listening to her werewolf brethren devour people. Once the attack begins, she disappears. Hell, she may be one of the attacking werewolves. However, at the very end of this scene, there is Stefan/Romo outside the warehouse (presumably in his normal clothes, but it'd been a lot cooler if it were that punk outfit), hanging around, "investigating outside" the script says, and doing absolutely nothing to help those poor people being eaten alive.

“Fuck those kids.” The scene where Stefan/Romo explains werewolves to Ben and Jenny happens right after the previous scene in the middle of the damn night, rather than more sensibly the next morning as in the movie. Stefan/Romo is written with explicit text that he is "giddy" and "excited" as he lays down the wolf lore here. There is about two-thirds of a page description of Stefan/Romo's home (a place we never see again) that more or less amounts to "it's gothic and messy." It's said that he has just stuff thrown all over the place with a combination work table/work bench right in the middle of the living room! What it's for goes without explanation. In the final film, Stefan’s house is shot at the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Ennis House, notably used in The House on Haunted Hill (1959).

Seems a little... I dunno... big for one person? The tape that Stefan/Romo has seems to be trying to describe what's onscreen in reference to what happened at the end of the first Howling. However, here too, Karen is described as being a roaring, ferocious animal with bared fangs and blood red eyes filled with murderous rage. And of course in The Howling, Karen transforms into a weeping were-poodle that doesn't look frightening because she's "innocent" and hasn't murdered anyone. Sarno eschews all that in favor of cheap horror movie thrills. But at least it all comes off better than whatever the hell was on that tape in the movie. Yeesh.

I think somebody sold Stefan a copy of The Howling as recreated by those kids that remade Raiders of the Lost Ark in their spare time. Stefan/Romo shows Ben and Jenny pictures of Marsha/Mariana and Erle on a slide projector, rather than blown-up photographs. He still explains that Marsha has become immune to silver bullets and only titanium will kill her, but also adds a perplexing bit that if one were to shoot her with silver bullets, it would transform her into a "more dangerous mutant"!

SHIT. It's important to point out a couple of things here. According to the audio commentary on the Shout Factory Blu-ray, Philippe Mora reveals that they shot this scene on location over in Czechoslovakia. However, when the film came back, it was all dark, which forced them to reshoot the scene once they got back to L.A. In the song, "Your Sister is a Werewolf" written by Steven Parsons on the Howling II soundtrack (but not used in the film), the song's lyrics are solely pieces of dialogue heard in the film. All except for "Hear me; in three weeks time, at the next full moon, on the midnight hour of that fateful day, all werewolves—all—will reveal themselves. Each and every human being will be devoured by her lustful disciples." I assumed this might have been a line that was in that original Czech version of the scene but didn't make it into the U.S. reshoot. And that line is indeed here in the script (what Lee says in the final film is "At the next full moon, it will be the tenth millennium of Stirba's birth. At midnight on that day, all werewolves will reveal themselves—ALL. The transformations have already begun... Process of evolution has reversed. There are many stages before man becomes a beast.")

“ALL, motherfucker.” Additionally, you know that bizarre pre-title bit where Christopher Lee is floating in space, reading from a book, with a skeleton slowly fading in behind him? "The great mother of harlots and all abominations of the earth"? That bit is here! And while he is reading it, for some reason, thunder and lighting are going on outside (just like the unwarranted thunderclap over the title card). I suspect maybe this was shot in Czechoslovakia and was perhaps the only usable footage from the sequence. And Mora just threw it in at the beginning of the movie to 1.) ape Dune (1984) and b.) I dunno... baffle everybody? At any rate, the scene ends with Stefan/Romo falling asleep in a chair and telling Ben and Jenny to show themselves out.

That look says it all. So who exactly is Stefan/Romo? Who did you think he is? Because whoever he was in your head is who he will have to remain. There is absolutely no backstory on the character. There is no indication that Stefan/Romo is himself a werewolf or a witch or if he is in fact 10,000 years old like Stirba. Watching Howling II, you have questions. The film nor the script has any answers and Sarno seems infuriatingly uninterested in exploring whatever mythology he had cooked up for this story.

Stefan, we hardly knew ye. Sorry your creator couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. The whole sequence at the cemetery is far more involved than in the movie, starting with Ben and Jenny discovering the fence has been yanked wide open so something could enter. In the film, it looks like they're flabbergasted that someone used bolt cutters on a chain. There are four werewolves during the attack, presumably Marsha/Mariana, Erle, and two others. Stefan/Romo is not doing last rites over Karen's body like in the film, but instead is just loitering around waiting for Ben and Jenny to show up. When they try to flee into the crypt, one of the werewolves is up on the roof waiting to pounce, but gets shot for its trouble but when that doesn't work, Ben throws a flashlight at it. Maybe the flashlight was made of titanium casing? At any rate, once Jenny and Ben are in the crypt, Stefan/Romo seems to invoke the occult by drawing triangles around Karen's casket, though it says he does mutter a prayer in Latin. This, of course, pisses off Ben to no end and he threatens to "blow [his] nutsy head off!" Jenny tries to step in between the two to calm things down, but Karen-wolf bursts out of her coffin and grabs Jenny's wrist. When Ben tries to shoot Karen, Stefan/Romo stops him, claiming "Not yet! They are coming!" Karen-wolf proceeds to shred the lid of the coffin whilst still hanging onto Jenny. At this point, Ben loads his rifle with titanium bullets and pumps Karen full of lea—er, alloy?

Also not found in the screenplay, “BLAAAH!!!” Stefan/Romo blesses Karen, but then smiles and remarks, "Here they are," and sure enough the four werewolves are in the crypt with them. While Ben is busy shooting the monsters, Stefan/Romo "chants a strange Latin chant” [sic] and hurls holy water at the werewolves. And it works. One flees and another follows after it. The last werewolf helps the one blasted by Ben back to its feet and out of the crypt. For some reason, the four werewolves are on the run, fleeing for their lives from the cemetery as the wounded one lags behind. Now, in the film, Ben asks at one point, "Do you think Stefan's going to the cemetery tonight to set traps?" and there's no real payoff for it. Here, actual traps are mentioned being in Stefan's home and then, the wounded werewolf trips one and is caught in... a net. The other werewolves ditch him and our ersatz heroes catch up to Erle, who has transformed back into a human. We get the exchange in the movie "Where is La Bruja?!" "Dark country..." Stefan/Romo stabs Erle and kills him. Rather than Mariana, the security guard from the prologue has apparently been watching all this and remarks, "I gotta stop drinking."

Not gonna lie: this does work better. Stefan/Romo announces he's going to "do battle with La Bruja" and Ben demands to come with. When they ask where the "dark country" is, the response is "Transylvania... where else?" Where else, indeed... if you were fighting vampires! Christopher Lee's response in the movie works a lot better. "Where do we have to go to find 'Stur-buh'?" "To the dark country... to Transylvania." Ben then wonders if it's safe to drink the water... which works for when the story was to move to Mexico, but makes no sense referring to Romania.

You know Mexican architecture when you see it. At any rate, somehow Marsha/Mariana beats the heroes over to Transylvania and the script claims the town they're in is "Santa Marta," rather than "Vlk." Vlad here is named "Vittorio" and he meets Marsha/Mariana at the train and takes her to the castle. There's the scene with the hitchhikers, which seems to be played for terror rather than laughs. And then, we go to La Bruja's castle. The rite here is far more involved, starting with the little girl—said to be hypnotized and 14 years old—being prepared. The script says the rite is being witnessed by a coven of 12 disciples and that many of them are villagers of Santa Marta, even though we haven't met any of them yet! The little girl is taken and rested on a huge pentagram that has been drawn on the castle floor. It is at this point that Stirba/La Bruja makes her entrance into the story and she is rather rudely described as being "an incredibly old hag” [in all caps for emphasis]. The script does, however, describe what the hell the staff she has for the whole movie is—"some hideous gargoyle with folded wings and long fangs." So if you were wondering what it was, there it is.

Sarno’s mean. Stirba/La Bruja takes a "wickedly serrated dagger" and beheads a chicken over the little girl, pouring blood onto her face while mumbling "indecipherable magical words," and then the script proceeds to write them out! If you can discern them, they aren't indecipherable now, are they? In the movie at a later point, Stirba casts the Eko Eko Azarak protection spell against Stefan, and here, the words spelled out appear to be the black magic spell Exorcism of the Bat. At any rate, instead of the batshit crazy montage that is randomly edited into the scene, the script just describes a bunch of batshit crazy things going on at once: Stirba/La Bruja leans down inches away from the girl's face and "draws in air with a sucking sound." The little girl begins convulsing. The disciples writhe about "in orgasmic ecstasy" (which sounds repetitive to me) as they look on, the headless chicken is still flapping its wings, Marsha/Mariana watches "with intense pleasure," and Stirba/La Bruja kisses the little girl on her lips. The rite is apparently successful and Stirba/La Bruja is a young woman again. The little girl, though, has become desiccated and is dead. Stirba/La Bruja beckons Vlad/Vittorio and two handmaidens to her bedchamber.

Oh, gawd, yes! The two women dress the "werewolf" queen, but the script does not describe in what. She shoos them off and turns her attention to Vlad/Vittorio who can just barely keep his hands off her. Marsha/Mariana is brought in and she kisses a ring with "a strange design" Stirba/La Bruja is wearing Godfather-style. The scene continues as in the movie, though as Vlad/Vittorio and Marsha/Mariana begin "making love" on her bed (the script rather prudishly constantly uses the phrase "making love" rather than "sex" or "fuck" even though, let's face it, in the Howling II movie, nobody is making love), Stirba/La Bruja just slowly removes her clothes instead of ripping them off. Fade to, and I quote, "three wolves in a lovemaking frenzy" [again, in all caps for emphasis].

*sigh* Why? At this point it's worth mentioning that in an interview with Philippe Mora with Fangoria magazine during the filming of Howling II, Mora made the outrageous claim that Sybil Danning didn't really exist in the film. What he said was that throughout the entire movie, Stirba was an old woman and that the appearance of Sybil Danning was what Stirba wished she looked like and was a spell that she had cast over everyone. Some of this seems to make it to the final film like when Sybil-Stirba first appears and seems almost scared until she realizes that everyone sees her as young. And then the end of the movie where Stirba's magic won't work on Stefan and as such, he sees her as the 10,000 year old woman she actually is. However, the movie does in fact play it off as Stirba is young again, Elizabeth Bathory-style. None of that is in the script. Not even Stefan/Romo seeing Stirba/La Bruja as an old woman in the showdown.

Goddammit, Philippe. For real? We then hang out with our three heroes for a bit as they cross Transylvania in "a small European sedan." In the film, Christopher Lee seems to be asleep in the backseat but here, Stefan/Romo is described as "meditating" with a "slight smile on his face." For some reason, Stefan/Romo is written frequently to constantly have "a slight smile on his face." Yeah, I think Lee made the right decision not doing that.

“Meditating” my ass. I know a nap when I see one. They have the encounter on the road with the woman in the street and it goes like in the movie except the priest claims she was hit by falling rocks (?!) and the woman doesn't suddenly grow fangs. Stefan/Romo just ices her werewolf ass out of nowhere. Just like in the movie, Stefan/Romo randomly ditches Ben and Jenny, though he does anti-explain, "I will leave you now. There are things I must do alone." Where he goes is never described... just like in the movie. Ben and Jenny continue on when a tramp suddenly steps out into the road and they hit him. When they run out of the car to investigate, the tramp is nowhere to be found, but blood is on the road. Our heroes shrug it off (Ben remarks, "He is here... but he is not here. Welcome to Transylvania.") and get back in the car. This is where the crouching werewolf-hidden dumbass comes into play and the scene continues just like in the movie, complete with a random cliff just appearing out of nowhere.

Wait, so you’re telling me this actually made sense at one point?!? Ben and Jenny make it into Santa Marta/Vlk and the hotel they stay in is given a name, the Hotel Aragon. They also don't do the dumb "six floors" gag and are given room 204. As mentioned before, the hotel proprietor is named Carlos here, but his nephew porter is "Tonio" rather than Tondo. Once in their room, there is none of that godawful garlic nonsense. Instead, Jenny kinda randomly decides to entice Ben into bed and outside, Vlad/Vittorio can smell it. That brings us to page 50 in an 89-page script and the rest of the script unspools at a rather breakneck pace. Honestly, there isn't really much writing so much as there is just action sequences and stuff happening until Sarno decides to call it a script. Ben and Jenny go to the church, where they are spied on by "Carlos" from a hotel room. Stefan/Romo's allies are introduced; Father Florrin is "Father Matteo," Vasile the dwarf is “Emiliano,” Konstantine is "Rudolpho," and Luca is "Juan." Honestly, this is getting out of hand and the absolute region-blindness is sickening. This is just piss-poor writing. Are there some Spanish people in Romania? Sure, there probably are. This many? Doubt it.

Seen here: not a Carlos. In the script here, the children seem to really enjoy the wolf/girl puppet show. They make a bigger deal of Ben leaving Jenny to go stalk Vlad/Vittorio and Marsha/Mariana as they wander through town and... actually they don't even have the dialogue they have in the movie. They eventually come upon Stefan/Romo. Vlad/Vittorio bows mockingly at him and Marsha/Mariana just glares at him "with murderous intensity." When Vasile/Emiliano asks if that's the woman they're looking for, Stefan/Romo warns "she is as deadly as the black widow spider."

“Punk-ass werewolves...” Vlad/Vittorio and Marsha/Mariana return to Stirba/La Bruja's castle with Ben and Vasile/Emiliano hot on their heels. Vlad/Vittorio uses something described as "a cross between a whistle and a yodel" to gain entry from the rifle-toting sentry. When we go into the castle, Stirba/La Bruja is sitting on her throne, watching a fire and her "eyes are abnormally bright as if she were in a trance." In the movie, Stirba is wearing sunglasses because Sybil Danning had an allergic reaction to that wolf-hair makeup they put all over her and it looked like she was punched in the face, so they put sunglasses on her to cover it up and continue filming. The two other werewolves report Stefan/Romo is in town and Stirba/La Bruja spills the beans that he's her brother and that "he circles me like an avenging angel of death." She goes on to deliver the bizarrely-written "he lusts to destroy me. But I will destroy him!"

“Oh come on! We just sprayed for dwarves in here!” Stirba/La Bruja sees Vasile/Emiliano spying on them from the window and unleashes her werewolves upon them. When the castle door slams open, Vlad/Vittorio and Marsha/Mariana are already in full wolf form. Stirba/La Bruja chants another black magic spell that seems to be made up nonsense words this time. When Vasile/Emiliano loses his blessed earplugs, Stirba/La Bruja's chanting causes his head to explode from the inside out and the script says that geysers of blood and brain "tissure" [tissue, I imagine] sprays out of his eye sockets, nose, and ears. That seems unnecessary. Stirba/La Bruja pours an oil over Vasile/Emiliano's corpse and whispers something into his ear that causes him to come back to life as a zombie.

Like you w--wait, what were we talking about? Tondo/Tonio tries to rape Jenny, but rather than "take him away and teach him discipline," Stirba/La Bruja has a werewolf minion eviscerate Tondo/Tonio right then and there. She captures Jenny as bait. Stefan/Romo has the encounter with zombie Vasile/Emiliano and is saved by Ben in a sequence that reads like it goes on forever. Ben's fight with the dwarf is more involved than in the film—Vasile/Emiliano proves capable with a blade and Ben manages to toss him out the window with a judo throw! Ben and Stefan/Romo go back to the church for reinforcements and weapons. The significant change here is that Stefan/Romo says they have a titanium spike that was somehow made from the Holy Grail, rather than having the Holy Grail itself and nobody stopping to wonder how the fuck they have the Holy Grail on hand. He also shows off a "titanium machete" made by Luca/Juan. That, unfortunately, didn't make it into the movie, but perhaps it should have.

”Yeah, yeah, Holy Grail, whatever. Gimme dat gun!” [Yes in the final movie, Stefan actually cops to having the Holy Grail on hand. No, not a single person goes, “Hey, wait a second, Stefan...”] Stirba/La Bruja has a fuck party at her castle (described in the script as a "Black Sabbath revelry," but it's a fuck party). Here, there is "a diabolical altar with the head of the horned god prominent over it" (heavily implied to be Lucifer). Additionally, a slaughtered lamb has been split open and crucified upside down on a wooden cross. In the final film, I don't think it's crucified, but they do have a lamb just hanging in the corner of the castle, which Stirba prays to briefly.

Ya know... this movie is kinda making a good case for evil. One of her disciples runs in and tells her [presumably] the heroes are coming and she stops the fuck party dead in its tracks and orders, "Go my children... destroy them!" Everyone starts transforming, but Stirba/La Bruja tells Vlad/Vittorio and Marsha/Mariana to stay with her, which they do in human form. The trio then goes over to the altar and prays to their horned god, described as "staring out with eyes as dark and empty as deep, endless space."

Don’t make a Kristen Stewart joke. Don’t make a Kristen Stewart joke. Don’t make a Kristen Stewart joke. The werewolves attack our heroes and all hell breaks loose. Ben pushes Stefan/Romo down "for safety" and sets about murdering everything in sight. Konstantin/Rudolfo saves Luca/Juan by ripping through a werewolf's throat with his titanium machete. Another werewolf "rips Rudolfo's face" [did Sarno mean "rips off"?] and proceeds to slash him to death. Stefan/Romo—I shit you not—has a fire extinguisher that sprays holy water, which he uses to finish off the other werewolves! It causes them to "shriek in agony as if they were being burned alive!" I hope it was Christopher Lee who put his foot down and said "I'm not doing that." As they continue onward, "an unearthly, grotesque hand" with "enormous curved talons" grabs Luca/Juan and drags him into the earth like a random quicksand pit. There's no mention of werewolves here; it's just someTHING's hand. Another hand grabs hold of Luca/Juan's neck and drags him underground. Rather than hurl the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch as in the movie, Stefan/Romo throws a vial of chrism at them and Father Florrin/Matteo [misspelled as "Metteo" here] lights the leaves up with a match. Then, this happens: "as the three men sprint away, there is a horrible agonizing roar of pain from the demonic creature as it begins to burn in the fire of the consecrated Chrism. The outlines of some unearthly form rises up in the flames and twist wildly [sic] in his death throes." As we cut back to the castle, Stirba/La Bruja is "screaming and writhing in ecstasy as she walks on glowing ashes." Why?? You will go wanting because there are no answers. Stirba/La Bruja orders Vlad/Vittorio and Marsha/Mariana to "bring the girl" and they head off for Jenny. Instead of the ultra-creepy area made up of walls of human skulls, Jenny is just being kept in a more mundane torture dungeon. When Father Florrin/Matteo sneaks into the castle, Stirba/La Bruja just steps out of a shadow and stares at him. She orders her gargoyle staff to attack him and the "hideous little creature opens its eyes which glow with an infernal ruby light," leaps onto the priest's face, drives its fangs into the top of his skull, uses its tail to wrap around his neck, then uses the tip of its tail to prod up through his nose into his skull. The thing causes Florrin/Matteo's head to explode from the inside out, causing "squirming, gelatinous tentacles" to pour out. Stirba/La Bruja marches off because that was all just a touch much. Vlad/Vittorio and Marsha/Mariana appear to harass Jenny and Ben charges in and blows the back of Vlad/Vittorio's head and his brains onto the wall behind him. Marsha/Mariana is understandably stunned by this and when Ben tries to shoot her, he's out of bullets. Sorta-Ms. Quist starts to wolf out and leaps at Ben but he stabs her with a silver knife, despite the fact Stefan/Romo had explicitly told him she's immune to silver now. However, she doesn't actually seem to die. She slumps to her knees and cannot pull the knife out. When Ben hauls Jenny away, Marsha/Mariana is said to be slumped onto the floor dying and screaming. I have to say, Marsha was done dirty and she should've been able to get away Howling I-style to run amok in The Marsupials: The Howling III, dammit (which yes, does seem to take place in the continuity of the first two movies, if Olga's stealth reference is to be believed). It's worth mentioning that in the script, this scene does not have a wooden cage locked full of victims which does appear in the corresponding scene in the movie. And after Ben kills Vlad and Mariana and hauls Jenny away, our ersatz hero just leaves those poor people there to starve to death! Stirba/La Bruja hears the screaming and charges off to help (I guess?) but Stefan/Romo steps into her path and boasts "You go no further." At this point, the script goes even more off the rails. Stirba/La Bruja beckons Stefan/Romo to come to her and dares him to fuck her, going so far to throw back her cape, revealing "her luscious naked body." Stefan/Romo just starts involuntarily walking over to her (as one would) and rather pathetically calls out for Christ and God like he was inside the Wicker Man and Lord Summerisle just lit it on fire. Stirba/La Bruja says "You will be my Prince of Darkness and I will be your Queen of the Night!" Obviously, there was no way Christopher Lee was going to let that line stay in when he came on board. Similarly, a line where Ben describes Stefan/Romo as looking like "Dracula's grandfather" was removed, probably for the same reason. Anyway, Stirba/La Bruja laughs that they will rule the world and that "I give myself to you; I am yours to ravage and rape." No, really. Bottom of page 86. Sarno seriously wrote that shit.

Seen here: not a man freaking out about possibly banging his smokin’ hot sister. Stirba/La Bruja demands "Love me, my brother!" [though, based on previous scenes, Sarno definitely means "fuck me, my brother!"] and Stefan/Romo leaps through the air, tackles his sister, drives the Holy Grail titanium spike into her (where is not said), and plants one on her as she shrivels into her "hideous and shriveled hag" form [again, rude!]. Now, some of this was actually shot because there is a still of Christopher Lee kissing Sybil Danning from this scene that is not in the movie. But there's absolutely no way they were gonna have/get 62-year-old Lee to jump through the air and tackle Sybil, even with his trusty stunt double Eddie Powell on hand.

You thought I was lying, didn’t you? Now, here in the script, Stefan/Romo's flying tackle causes he and Stirba/La Bruja to crash into her fire pit and that causes them to become engulfed in flames. Stirba/La Bruja won't let go and he can't get away from the fire and they both burn to death. And honestly, that works a lot better than whatever the hell happens at the end of the movie where there's no real excuse for Stefan having to burn to death too while Stirba admonishes that they will be "wedded for eternity." Got a man doing God's work here and God absolutely drops the ball on him.

Bullshit, I say! At any rate, Sarno thinks its funny to cut from them screaming as they burn to death to Jenny's fireplace in her apartment the next Halloween. Jenny says that she misses Stefan/Romo and Ben jibes that Halloween was probably his favorite [spelled with an extra u] day. There's a knock at the door and a werewolf plays trick or treat. You've seen the scene; you know how it goes, except Ben gives the werewolf money instead of candy and wishes him happy Halloween! The werewolf waves back and howls. When Jenny demands they go over to the apartment and say hi, the script says that Erle answers the door! But he had been killed by Stefan/Romo at the beginning of the story! In the movie, it's the priest they encounter when the woman on the road was hit by a car/falling rocks. The script just gives up after Erle/the priest asks "won't you come in?" It claims to be "The End," but it's more like "The Quit." For what it's worth, the script does not have the scene that I saw on USA one time where the camera creeps down the hall to reveal the inside of another apartment with a family of laughing werewolves inside. I'm told this ending also appeared on the VHS release in Australia, but it was certainly not in the "normal" TV version that played elsewhere (Fox, predominately, and later the Sci-Fi Channel).

Before you ask, yes that IS Philippe Mora painted into the mural on Stirba’s castle to the right of Sybil there. So there you have it. Everybody who worked on it says Howling II isn't the movie they made... but damned if the script isn't pretty much the movie we saw.

#Howling II #Stirba - Werewolf Bitch #Your Sister is a Werewolf #Robert Sarno #Christopher Lee #Sybil Danning #screenplay #script #writing #what the what?#Philippe Mora #Gary Brandner #Reb Brown #Annie McEnroe #Ferdy Mayne #Marsha Hunt

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